The fashion statement

In today’s society, nothing seems to be quite as important as being on the cutting edge of fashion. Not ethics, not moral values, not character, not reputation, not good deeds, and definitely not common sense.
They all take a distant second place to fashion.
How else do you explain the grunge look popular among teenagers, or the cigarettes they puff on in shivering packs on the street corner across from the school. After all, these are our fairest and brightest–the future of our country–so it can’t be lack of brains.
They are simply slaves of fashion.
But this slavery is not the sole domain of the adolescent. Look to Ottawa, where a whole crop of veteran and novice MPs were busy preening and strutting for the opening day of the new session of Parliament. It looked for a few hours Monday like they were going to break with tradition and do something eminently sensible–like elect an independent speaker (John Nunziata).
No such luck, they went for fashion. Can’t you just hear the PM.
“Jeepers creepers! Youse guys can’t heelect dat John Nunsensiata. Not only he want us to keep dose heelection promises on killing de GST, he was the friend of Sheila Copp-Out.
“But most himportan’ was de fact he don’t got no ’air. After all, we can’t ’ave de speaker who is bald. Is jus’ not fashionable,” the P.M. admonished caucus before the critical last vote for speaker.
On the other side of the house, things were no different. Presto Manhole, leader of the now official opposition Reeeeform Party, was deep in a strategy discussion.
“Now all you guys take a note from my book,” Presto squeaked as he adjusted his pin-striped suit jacket.
“Use your wardrobe allowance to the fullest. Designer suits (no cowboy boots), parliamentary perks, vote our pensions back in, and contact lenses for all.
“If you’re good, I’ll invite you to my taxpayer-paid official residence, and pick you up with my taxpayer-paid limousine,” he cajoled.
“Hang the expense. We’re real politicians now and must be fashionable,” Presto concluded as he primped his new coiffure in the mirror and attempted to lower his voice two octaves by loosening his underwear.
On a personal note, I’ve been conducting a survey of friends and acquaintances on what the fashionable lady wears in the bath. It’s not an issue for the male of the species. The rest of society is just happy we get in and use a bit of soap and water.
But with women there must be some secret fashion code. I base this conclusion on the number of pieces of jewellery that disappear down the drain, and can only reason that women simply won’t be caught in the tub without the proper fashion accessories.
Or else it’s a female plot to make sure the plumbing is either cleaned or replaced on a regular basis.
The Pearl of the Orient’s recent explanation of the escaped earring–“It was an accident”–simply doesn’t ring true. Particularly once I had finished completely replumbing the bath drain system and the delight on her face at the sight of the new chrome tub stopper.
Hence I’ve been conducting a simple survey of “What do the females in your house wear while taking a bath?”
So far the responses have ranged from utter silence to “I don’t know. My wife won’t left me near the bathroom when she’s in the tub” to a ringing slap across the face.
However, to date, no one has invited me to join them to check out the tub fashion scene. I guess I’ll just have to keep on asking.

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