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I should Never Have Accessorized



It seemed like such a simple plan. Since it was my wife's birthday, I wanted to get her an outfit. Now, for a guy, an outfit usually consists of pants and a shirt. One size for the pants. One size for the shirt. End of story.

But, somewhere along the way, things went terribly wrong.

When I first walked into the women's clothing store, it felt like I had come upon some new, as yet undiscovered, land. A land of people, whose language I could not grasp.

Where there were no shirts, only blouses and tops. Where clothes did not come in sizes I understood. There were no size eight pants, only eight tall average long.

And, the colors had changed, too. Instead of red, there was cherry blossom. Instead of blue, there was midnight ocean.

After awhile, my brain grew numb. I began to sweat and sway, as I struggled to figure out what my wife would wear.

Finally, I found a sweater and pants that matched. I thought they were beige, until a sales clerk patiently explained that they were sun-burnt desert sand.

And, even with all of that, if I had just left right then, I still would have been all right. But, foolishly, I asked if there was anything else that would go with the clothes I had picked out.

Which brought me to the accessories.

Socks, earrings, purses, belts, gloves, glasses, wallets, and scarves. A whole new planet, with yet its own language and customs.

So, I'm writing to you today from an aisle near the earrings. Where I have one last desperate question.

Studs or hoops?