Fashion Week in Central Pennsylvania

My new look.

Today is a hot one. I decided to get out of the attic studio for the afternoon and go shopping.

I went to the mall. I left empty-handed.

I once heard that Central Pennsylvania is an Alabama between two New Yorks. I think that Alabama was insulted. At least retail-wise. There just aint nothin' here.

Unless you are a teenage hooker. Or a buffet-binging octogenarian. I don't know with which group to classify myself. I'm a few decades off in either direction. Should I choose the sequined mini-skirt or the tropical-flowered teepee? And what to do with my hair? Straighten it and let my long locks hang in my face or cut it short and get that light blue curly perm?

Perhaps I just don't fit my central PA demographic. If a woman has hit the age of forty (and dared to go beyond), she apparently no longer has a waist. Perhaps because now that's where her boobs are. She should want everything to stretch and be cantaloupe-colored.

I know, I know. Try mail order. I have. I'm the reason that UPS is still in business. Packages come in. I try things on. I scream. I head out to UPS to return. I try again. And again.

There are two solutions:

1. Nudity. pros: cheap. cons: illegal in most places, works only in warm months.

2. Try the look shown above. What could I have to lose. It's a smart look with shades.