As dyed-in-the-seersucker Floridians, we don’t usually get many winter opportunities to wear socks with our flip flops, knit beanies, long sleeves, or even jackets. But YAY! The past few weeks have dolloped a wad of cold weather on us down here. Besides the frozen iguanas raining on our heads and catatonic gators we have to leap over (those cold blooded dudes don’t dig freezes), it’s been winter wonderland fun minus the fluffy white stuff.
In celebration, I dragged out my seldom used winter wear, including a gorgeous (in my humble but accurate opinion) plush poncho I bought for 70% off at Cracker Barrel at last year’s spring clearance sale (look to your left). I was thrilled to get a chance to wear it while my grandbuddies were here visiting in December. I wore a black turtleneck and black flow-y skirt with black knee-high boots beneath it. Boy was I stylin’ as I started herding chirren (that’s what my granny from Georgia always called us kids) out the door and into the car for church.
I felt pretty, oh so pretty, I felt pretty and witty and wise. Yep. I looked like a hip, sweetly ripened, winterized Kardashian.
Then 9-year-old Breeja eyed me up and down and declared earnestly, “You look creepy, Mimi.”
Well knock me over with a feather.
Then her equally tactful twin brother chimed in, nodding, “Yeah, you sorta do, Mimi.”
WHAT??? I was more confused than angry. Whatever could they mean? I was smashing.
“Creepy? What about me looks creepy?” I bellowed.
They looked at one another and one of those silent messages that twins telecommunicate passed between them. They both looked back at me with sympathetic puppy dog eyes, like they hated to be the ones to break this hard fashion truth to me.
“It’s your robe,” they said in unison.
Now THAT was creepy. I looked around to make sure the other children of the corn (remember that horrendous horror movie from your childhood?) weren’t climbing in through the windows.
“My robe? What robe? I’m not wearing a robe (que Harry Potter here).” My voice quavered with indignancy. “I’m wearing a poncho; a very stylish, posh, pretty fashion accessory I got for a great price, for your information.”
But they wouldn’t budge. Apparently my “robe” was far beyond their fashion scope and that was that. We were late with no time to change clothes and I had to go to church feeling … creepy.
So I’ve decided to leave the fate of my awesome high fashion poncho (it was at Cracker Barrel, for heaven’s sake!) in your capable hands, dear BFF (Blessed Friend Forever). Let me have it gently – do I need to put it on mothballs or shall I gather enough chutzpah to wear it again? Please comment below. Would you wear it? You don’t get extra points for fibbing.
Hilarious!! Yes!! Wear your robe-poncho with pride! I love it!
Do you like it???? Wear it.
I like the poncho. Maybe it was too much black in the total outfit.
I like the poncho! Children are so blunt??
Wear what makes you happy! The twins we’re probably creeped out because of all the black. I love your nearly new, hardly worn poncho! It’s very stylish!
I, too, have a poncho from Cracker Barrel. (What does this mean that we clothes shop at a restaurant?)!! You rock in that Cracker Barrel apparel!
Maybe over a red skirt to offset some of the black. I think it’s gorgeous but then again I have a wool one that my mother got in Germany with when I was a child and was passed down to me.? you always look incredibly stylish?