Unsolicited Advice

My kids wanted to run to the mall today.  It's summer vacation.  I "need" some new Bath and Body Works foaming hand soaps (that lavender scent is uh-mazing.)  I'd rather drive around and wander through stores than stay home, fight technology and do laundry.  I was in.
We had lunch at Avanti's and then wandered over to the mall to do our shopping.
On our way out, I wanted to look at dresses at Penney's.  I have this sudden strange love for dresses.  I found one that was a coral and hot pink pattern.  I held it up to show the kids to get their opinion.
KJ said, "I like it mom.  It looks like you."  (Translation: Please buy it so we can leave.)
Boo said nothing. Instead I got a shoulder shrug and eyeroll. (Translation: You have already pushed me past my limit.  Take me home NOW.)
Old Lady I've never met before, "Do you want my opinion?"
I answered gamely, "Sure."
She replied, "I don't like it."
"You don't like the pattern?"
"No."
I rambled on something about modern colors and patterns then turned away and she added, "You sure won't be wearing that if you get a sunburn."
I smiled and commented about needing some sun to balance out the farmer's tan I have going from sitting at the kids' ball games.  She responded with some comment about how she doesn't sit out in the sun anymore because her doctor got all upset about it.
I turned away and she still felt the need to drive home the point that she didn't like that dress on me.  She looked at the 2Ks and said, "Don't you think that she is too red to wear that dress?" They looked at me because they had no idea how to handle this one.
And because that wasn't enough, she told me to hold it up and go look in the mirror and I would see how I was too red to wear it.
At that point in time, I hung it back up and walked away.
And she said, "Oh dear, I made you change your mind.  I'm sorry."
Seriously.
Unsolicited opinions about my clothing choices, or my eyebrows make me all paranoid.
Maybe I should have invited her back here to go through my closet.
Then again, maybe not.

Ultimate Bad Hair Day

That's me, on the right. And my little sister, on the left. She has threatened to kill me in the past for posting this photo. I am taking my life into my own hands by sharing this with you, my nonexistent readers.
This was Easter Sunday, 1986. I remember how I wanted that dress, had to have that dress, thought I was going to die if I didn't have that dress (actually skirt and shirt.) I don't know if I thought I would look a little like Laura Ingalls Wilder. Maybe the mauve plaid was just too tempting. The cute little round collar? And beads to match. I was hot.
But really, am I ignoring the elephant in the room? Holy balls of fire, look at that hair. You see, my sister and I were not allowed to cut our hair. "Little girls have long hair," stated my father. My mother went along with it, but made sure he had to brush the bird's nest snarls we'd get every once in a while. Somewhere along the way, we convinced Dad to let us have bangs. And then those bangs steadily marched backwards until the entire crown of our heads were "bangs." And then mom got tired of curling said bangs (have I mentioned that my sister and I have stick-straight hair?) so we got ourselves some Ogilvie Home Perms. Sweet, huh?
The end result was this. Mega Mullets.
And if my sister ever sees this, I will pay. Love you, Court!