Just Say No

A couple of months ago I was having a chat with Lunchtruck about a planned clothes shopping expedition to Robson “Strasse”. Neither one of us are big on crowds, shopping, insipid salesweasels, tourists or the accompanying desire for an M16, so so this trip had to be strategized with military precision in order for us to go through with it. Anyhoo, I made some off-hand comment about the princesses of Robson Street and how “Half of them look like they’ve been done up with a BeDazzler from the 80’s.”

Well!

Apparently I dated myself when I said that.

In my defense I was a kid then – I vaguely remember it….

So today I was reminded of this conversation when I passed a lovely girl wearing a herringbone patterned coat.

As I got closer I realized her lapels were laden with jewels, as was her oversized bag. The only thing not completely blinding me was the fuschia of her Holt’s bag, and that’s mostly because I’m used to seeing those around here.

I fully expected to see her wearing knee-high suede black boots with turned down cuffs. I looked down and… yep.

Damn I hate predictability.