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The Iron Fist of Fashion

The Iron Fist of Fashion
Luvdoc,
A few day ago, I wore some white sandals on a dinner date with my boyfriend and, when he came to pick me up, he immediately commented that I was breaking a very basic fashion rule – no white after Labor Day. At first I thought he was joking, but then I realized he was serious. We actually got into an argument about it and it ruined the evening. He insists that wearing white after Labor Day is trashy and I believe that in Austin, where it’s hot most of the year, white is appropriate any time. Can you settle this argument once and for all?
- Lily Whiteshoes

First of all, Lily, big props to you for asking the tough questions, and secondly, respect for going to the mat with your boyfriend about shoe color. Before I address the larger issue of what constitutes trashy fashion in Austin, Texas (and this is a pretty huge issue so you’ll want to stay tuned), first we have an even more pressing matter that needs to be cleared up: your boyfriend. Drop him. Now. Shake that nitpicking bastard off your leg before you’re 20 years down the road and he’s laying out your clothes for you every morning like some sort of crazed, OCD English butler. I know it may sound like I’m just teasing you but I’m not. Run. Run now. Send him a text that says you have made plans for the rest of your life that don’t involve him. OK then, feeling better already, aren’t we? Now, back to the issue of acceptable fashion. In Austin, all fashion is based on the following question: Will I sweat in it? That’s the Zen koan of Austin fashion, and there’s really only one right answer: yes. Not only does that answer help you transcend the duality of human existence, it also expands your wardrobe to include everything from a leopard print spandex thong (of the type favored by Austin fashion trendsetter Leslie Cochran, R.I.P.) all the way to the type of full-length faux ermine coat favored by the Chronicle’s own Style Avatar, Stephen Moser. In fact, it could be reasonably argued that a patina of perspiration is its own fashion accessory here in River City – sort of like it is for the McPoyle family on It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia. In other words, Lily, like it or not, this ain’t the Hamptons. You’re living in the sweaty South. All bets are off. If you want to dress every day like you’re going to throw ass at P. Diddy’s White Party, you go, girl. The only thing stopping you is the condemnation of your peers, and hopefully your peers are too busy doing interesting shit to worry about the color of your shoes.

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