The Good Wife
OK, quit passing out in shock. It was bound to happen someday.
Have I complained about my husband's clothes? I have. Good. Read it again.
Here is what is wrong with J's clothes (in no particular order of importance):
1. They are old. Some of them have been in his possession since he was sixteen. He is going to be twenty-five. We are not talking wool suits here, but t-shirts. Which leads us to number 2.
2. They have holes in them. And 3.
3. They are thin.
4. They have cartoon characters and super heros on them. In alarming numbers.
5. They are in unflattering colors. I know men don't care about this. But if you have yellow/sallow skin, don't wear yellow.
6. They are in unflattering styles. I have eliminated pleated pants. I am slowly adding lower rises and bootleg cuts. Eventually I will get him into this century. Possibly before the next one starts.
So I cleaned his closet (do mothers not teach their sons how to hang things on hangers? because his shit was hanging all fucked up, all of it, not just one thing but all of it). And then went to Old Navy. And I bought that place out. For fifty bucks.
I love Old Navy. For men. Their women's stuff I do not have much luck with. But the men's stuff is great. I just skip anything with a pattern (never matches up at the seams) and with a logo (obvious). Bought him a sweater, two sueded t-shirts, socks, underwear. The works. For fifty bucks. He liked the sweater so much that I am going to buy him two more at payday.
And another pair of jeans (but not at Old Navy). Because that is all that he wears so he should at least look cute.
Nobody tells you this shit when you get married. You don't realize that for the rest of your life you will be responsible for making sure he does not wear white gym socks with his black dress shoes. Or that he will want to buy a white belt to go with his sneakers (ok that was Travis, because he was told that you always match your belt and shoes).
Possibly because no woman would ever get married.
