There’s not a lot of TV I love, but I love Scandal and I have since it first aired.
I especially love Olivia Pope and her fantastic white wardrobe.
Last night she wore this white cape that was part nun, part super-hero, part origami, and part Grace Kelly.
Yesterday I spent the day in my silver puffer, which is essentially a housecoat. In case you were wondering, my version was one part shmatte, one part dishrag, one part bib, and three parts Roseanne Barr.
Those are actual grease stains in the shape of my hands that you are looking at. My pal R (who snapped the pic), wondered why someone as a slovenly as me would buy a housecoat (or anything, for that matter) in what she called “an unforgiving color.”
I will never wear a white coat. I can barely handle a white t-shirt for more than an hour without looking like I’m wearing a painter’s smock. I can’t even blame the kids because people who’ve known me forever will tell you that I have been this way forever.
I have a child who seems to have inherited this. Like I do, he can spend a day in a shirt that is inside out, backwards, and filthy, and have no idea. I secretly call him Pig Pen, but who am I to judge?