So, I went to Memphis this weekend for my Valentine's date. Gross, I know. I will spare you the sappy details, but I saw lots of things while in the "home of the Delta blues" - I put that in quotes because we Mississippians know that just ain't true - that gave me the blues. The fashion blues. Woooooe is me.
We went out to dinner Saturday night at a nice restaurant in downtown Memphis. It wasn't what you would classify as "fine" dining; however, it was really expensive and had really good food and an amazing bar and wine list.
Therefore, it was nice. Therefore, you should dress nice. For women, a dress is in order. For men, at minimum dress pants and a button-up shirt is required.
So imagine my horror when I walk into the restaurant and not only is it really crowded, but people are standing around in jeans and tennis shoes.
Really? I was wearing a black sequin dress, black hose and black Mary Jane platforms and felt extremely overdressed, which is a problem. Actually, I don't ever feel overdressed, I just notice how underdressed everyone else is. Fools.
Later on, at this restaurant that shall remain nameless, I saw an 8-year-old in the bathroom wearing a Juicy Couture sweatshirt. I didn't know they made sizes that small in Juicy Couture, nor have I ever cared to know.
I'm over Juicy Couture. In fact, I've never been under it. Anyone who pays $100 for a pair of velour freaking sweatpants probably has an IQ on the lower half of the bell curve.
And any parent who would buy something like that for an 8-year-old - and proceed to take that child to a nice steak house where said child will proceed to spill meat and salad all over themselves - probably has a similar IQ.
Also, I have always felt that having "juicy" written across your ass is not only utterly ridiculous but also makes you look stupid because it lets everyone know you paid $100 for those pants that you shouldn't even be wearing out of the house. Fool.
On a related note - children under the age of 13 should not be allowed in nice restaurants. Period. If you have enough money to eat somewhere really nice, you have enough money to get a babysitter. They are loud and run around everywhere and spill things. If I'm going out to eat expecting to pay a lot, I expect a perfect experience. If your child is yelling in my ear while I'm sipping on a martini and waiting for my table, it detracts from my experience. Shudder. Children. They - not unlike their parents - rarely know how to act.
So, then we went to the Peabody for cocktails - obvs so much better than mere drinks - and it was more of the same.
People wearing denim. Stretchy denim. Stretchy cotton pants. You name it. In the Peabody lounge at 10 p.m. on a Saturday, where the drinks range anywhere from $10 to $40 per, you freaking dress up.
If you're going to sip on a $30 glass of Crown Royal - yes, I saw it on the menu - then you may as well dress like you are.
You not only owe it to yourself to do so, but you also owe it to the long history of snooty, rich Memphis bourgeois sipping on expensive whiskey in that very lobby. They didn't skimp on the proper clothing, and neither should you my friend.
For next time, I hope people learn how to act. Until then, majorly yours.