Fashion is a form of ugliness so intolerable
that we have to alter it every six months.
Today I saw this silly woman, one of those purple hatters, no doubt, absolutely swathed in miles of drapey shawls and boas. Fuzzy, purple, dyed-feather boas. Had this been 1935 I would have thought she was a very tired tart. Instead, I thought she was desperately seeking personal definition in a society that sees women over 25 and 125# as invisible. Seen as Invisible.
I won't wear boas, I won't wear red and purple together. I get noticed with my personality, which is Pink and comes of Good Breeding.