Doctor, My Eyes...!

This morning the newest tenant in our building came in to introduce herself and her company. She brought us a couple of coffee mugs, pens, business cards, the usual. Seems like a very pleasant person.

Except for her apparel.

I could deal with the platinum hair and 80's makeup. The headband/scarf thing, not so much, but still wouldn't have felt moved to pontificate on the subject. It was the spandex.

Spandex is a wonderful invention. Swimsuits, hosiery, active wear, all are made better by the invention of spandex, lycra and all the other stretchy fabrics. But spandex has its place, and outside of a swimming pool its place is not on the ass of anyone over 30, much less over 40 or 50 and DEFINITELY not on any ass that's put on a few pounds.

This woman was not grossly overweight. Hell, who would I be to judge even if she was, since according to the charts I shall be buried in a piano case in a few short months. No, she just had the old middle-age spread going, albeit distributed unevenly, resulting in a butt proportionally reminiscent of the Widettes on the old SNL episodes. If dressed in clothes that fit correctly (read: loosely) I probably wouldn't even be able to tell you what she was wearing -- I probably would just remember that she was really friendly, outgoing and personable.

As it is, the image is burned into my retinas and I feel moved to pluck out my eyeballs. But before I do, remember and repeat after me:

SPANDEX IS A PRIVILEGE, NOT A RIGHT.

Same goes for plaid.