return of the mu'umu'u.

I probably shouldn't even get started on style, but while living in London it is hard not to get angry about. Though I am usually a supporter of fashion, lately I have grown jaded with "style." I don't know how things are progressing on the other side of the pond, but here big, baggy and shapeless are about as hot as a black leather car seat after 3 hours in an unshaded parking lot -- in July. Yowza.

Are any of you familiar with a muʻumuʻu (or as it is often misspelled, muumuu)? For those of you lucky enough not to be ... it is a loose Hawaiian dress that hangs straight down from the shoulders. Brilliantly colored patterns adorn these hideous things which can usually only be found on genuinely unattractive people. (Excuse me for being harsh, but I only speak the truth.) Since there is no constraint around the waist or hips, they are popular for pregnant women, as well as the women who look like they're pregnant (but have really just had a few too many tubs of ice cream.) At a local yard sale a few years ago, I modeled one of these lovely gowns much to the hilarity of several dozen onlookers.

Why were the onlookers laughing? Well -- Because muʻumuʻu's are ugly. Everbody knows that, right?

Right?

Aparently not. I don't know if London missed out on the world deciding that muʻumuʻu's were forever banned from being cool, or if the style gods at Versace and Dior are just playing a joke on all of us ... but somehow muʻumuʻu's are in. It is almost impossible to walk 10 minutes from my doorstep without seeing a few Londoners doning the latest craze.

Now I am not one who hates style. In fact, I generally think I am quite welcoming to the "art of fashion." But muʻumuʻu's are just one place I will not go. Here is a picture of my failed shopping day a couple weeks ago. The shirt was so ugly, I just had to snap photographic proof.

My mission has been simple - a blouse that would wear over jeans or a skirt. Two hours on Oxford Street and I was UNABLE to find a shirt that proved I had a waist. Instead, these frumpy maternity muʻumuʻu's ruled the racks. Where has the world's sense of feminity gone if all we wear are unflattering curtains?

I've decided to tune out of fashion until all this mess is over. Please, do give me a nudge and wake me up if you see signs of a waist or bustline anywhere.

Oh, and don't get me started on skinny jeans.