This afternoon, I headed into the city to run some errands.
On my way back from the bank, I noticed that a small crowd was gathered in front of one of the shop windows.
I could hear people laughing and applauding.
Any other day, I would probably have been pressed for time and would have walked past the crowd not giving it a second glance.
However, today the Son was home with Roxy and I didn’t feel the need to rush home as usual.
I think it was this relaxed attitude which allowed me stop and see what the ruckus was about.
As I peered through the throng, I noticed that in the middle of the crowd there were about ten women standing in line.
I had no idea what they were waiting for but upon closer inspection, I noticed that everyone was looking at two gentlemen who were standing behind one of the store windows.
At first I thought they were mannequins, but then I saw one of them move and hold up a sign.
It had a number six.
To my surprise, the crowd gasped and the woman at the front of the line turned to leave, but not before flipping the two men off.
The crowd roared with laughter.
Next, a stunning woman dressed in a swoon-worthy outfit stepped up to the spot where a line had been marked with tape.
I saw one of the men circle one of his fingers as if to indicate that he wanted her to turn around.
The men then huddled together and one of them held up a number ten.
The woman smiled and gave them a little clap.
The crowd cheered.
It was then I noticed a sign on the table that said “Fashion Judgement.”
I looked down at what I was wearing and caught a glimpse of jeans, cardigan, tshirt, scarf, and Chuck Taylors.
And then I thought, why not.
I quickly stepped in line thinking, I too, would like to know what my outfit rated.
When it was my turn, both men looked me up and down, huddled together, and finally one of them lifted the sign.
I almost closed my eyes, fearing I too would score a low six and as a result, the crowd would laugh again.
Nevertheless, I was determined to not flip the poor men off, regardless of my score.
After all, it wasn’t their fault if people were dressed unfashionably.
Suddenly I heard the crowd clap and to my delight, one of the men was holding up the number eight.
I gave them a “thumbs up” sign and smiled as I turned to leave.
So there you have it, ladies.
Today my humble outfit scored an eight.
Can’t say that I’m complaining.
I guess it pays to not always leave the house in pajama pants!