Friday, September 25, 2009

Life's Enduring Mysteries

I'm a woman, have been for years. Thank you. I care about clothes. Not what I'm wearing, mind you; I'll wear stuff I found in the street. Other people's clothes. The second most poorly-dressed woman in public life is the hostess of The Biggest Loser. That blue number she wore for the season opener? Just because the poor thing is blond is no reason to dress her like CBGB's-era Debbie Harry, OK? That's just wrong and she should renegotiate her contract. And speaking of people who are clearly dressed by angry, colorblind drag queens, I may have figured out what the deal is with Michelle Obama.

The First Lady dresses terribly. Everything fits poorly, is inappropriate for the occasion, or just plain bizarre. I don't think at this point she picks out her own clothes, because she has to have seen pictures of herself. I think people around her are afraid to tell her anything negative. I also think Mrs. Obama's a pretty smart cookie. Every time she goes out the door the media go wild praising her fashion sense and the internet goes wild coming up with new, even more unflattering adjectives with which to describe her... attributes.

So when Ahmadinejad lets slip that Iran is building another nuclear reactor and that "it would definitively be a mistake" for Obama to say anything about it, it's time for Ms. Michelle to slip into something ridiculous and close the streets during rush hour to pick up some produce. Everyone will spend the next news cycle yapping. OMG! Her shoes, her weave, her expression, her butt. Can you believe she went outside like that? How much was that bag? Oh, yeah. We were talking about something else, weren't we? Right? Who can remember?

Michelle is a helpmate, a team player, a nice, old-fashioned girl and a good little wifey. She's the magician's assistant.