Last night was the annual Westminster Dog Show, and while I love dogs, I don’t love the event. The whole idea of a “purebred” just leaves a bad taste in my mouth. My three dogs are all rescue dogs, and that’s all I would ever have, so the idea that people would pursue some idealized neurotic purebred rather than rescue a well-deserving, loving, smart, athletic fuzzermuffin from their local shelter is beyond comprehension.
But there is something I do love about watching the event: the handlers’ complete lack of fashion. When they show the dogs, you see the calves and shoes of the handler walking or trotting alongside the dog, and THAT provides pure, unadulterated entertainment. It is a parade of the worst shoes ever and the most unflattering skirts anyone could ever find. I don’t have any idea where these people find those ugly-ass shoes, the skirts that hit mid-calf (cause that’s a flattering length on anyone!), or the ghastly spectrum of taupe stockings. Sure, this is a high society event, so I guess the handlers are conforming to some conservative unstated dress code in an (unsuccessful) attempt blend into the background. But just because you gotta dress conservative and be prepared for running doesn’t mean you have to look terrible. It’s like they try hard to be as frumpy as possible. I feel like I dress pretty conservatively – I’m not into showing a lot of skin, but even I know that a skirt that hits mid-calf doesn’t look good on anybody, especially when paired with a no-nonsense vinyl orthotic sneaker disguised as a flat. It’s not like you don’t have time to prepare. Learn how to jog in a short heel, or at least visit Zappos to find some attractive flats. Order 20 pairs and send back the ones that fit poorly or turn out to be ugly as sin – that’s what it’s there for! Then get on a treadmill with your selected pair and practice, practice, practice. Not only will that help you get used to moving in real shoes, it’ll also give your calves some shape. And then you can show off your athletic calves in a pencil or A-line skirt, rather than that fuddy-duddy sh*t you call a skirt.