My younger sister and my mother traditionally shop together right around Thanksgiving and buy the little voice in my head some winter clothes. This year my mother almost didn't make it out alive, due to her true nature. What is her true nature, you ask? WHITE TRASH WHITE TRASH HOOCHIE MOOOOMMMMMAAAAAAAA1!!!

Now, you may think that's mean, but I'm not saying it to be evil or judgmental, it's just true. My mom has the fashion sense of Daisy Duke mixed with 80's flash. Seriously. When I was sixteen my mom was wearing bootie shorts that showed most of her bootie and begging me to wear belly shirts.

I have a always been a more conservative dresser, however, and as a young lass (and still today), I was very bookish looking. So flash and sass didn't suit me. My daughter looks similar, and so we do bling in different details of the outfit rather than the ENTIRE outfit. My sister nearly took down my mom because everything she chose was slinky, short, skintight and ruched (sp?). Also in very brassy colors. Little Sis won every fight but one - all the casual clothes are adorable, age-appropriate, and I can let my daughter wear them without fear that I will be arrested for child prostitution. The Christmas dress, though - let's just say this weekend we'll be making an "exchange." Because it didn't fit. AT ALL.

One of the items that I love best also freaks me out a little. It's this beautiful red-hooded swing with double-breasted black buttons and foof at the cuffs. She looks so cute in it I could lay down and roll around on the floor in rapture. But it also looks just like the coat from Don't Look Now, one of the freakiest movies ever made. I keep having David Lynch flashbacks every time I look at her in it because I watched that movie at a ridiculously young and innocent age.

Aside from the red riding hood jacket, there was something else I've been planning on writing about all day, and now that I'm sitting here in front of the laptop, I cannot remember what it is for my own sweet life. I hate it when I do that.