Wednesday, November 9, 2011

I'm beginning to see the things I need to talk about.

It's been months since I've felt the mojo to put something up here- the Frenches have been busy, with all the moving, starting new jobs, and uprooting spouses from their comfort zone.  So cut me some slack.  I was hoping to have some sweet office gossip to talk about, but so far, no.  So here is what I have so far:

We are the puffy coat family.  We all roll out in our down puffy jackets, and we look like huge dorks.  The only salve is the fact that everyone I know owns a Patagonia down sweater right now as well. 

Now on to some other significant fashion discoveries.  We know a couple in town that are in their mid-40s, and quite affluent.  They dress like they are extras on a new remake of Oliver Twist.  Picture this on a middle-aged man:

She dresses in a similar fashion.  Here is my point- at some point in life, you have to make a decision about your appearance; you can either go for "slob" or "well-dressed confident adult."  I manage to mix the two.  But not my boy J**, whom we shall refer to as "Oliver."  He made a conscious decision to stand out in the crowd, by looking like he lives in 19th Century Liverpool.  He undoubtedly reached a crossroads, and had a hard choice to make- Oliver Twist, or another option:

Chris Angel.  All I'm saying is it is a slippery slope when choosing between several degrees of ass-clownery.

And one other thing- I saw this the other day outside my office:

 An adult drives this car.  I'm guessing they also have ten or twelve cats and a room full of Beany Babies.

Mr. K