“You’re not going to wear that out, are you?” My mother, God rest, used to always ask me this as I got ready to go out. I would roll my teen-age eyes and tell her she was just not with it. That everyone wore stuff like this when they hung out with their friends.
If she noticed I was wearing mascara, she’d say, “Why do you have all that black stuff around your eyes?”
Now, I look at my son with his mile-high hair and I think it would take a weed-whacker to cut it.
The other day, I was watching a show with my hirsute son, and I commented about a woman on a t.v. show, “Do you think she meant to wear that outfit?” My son rolled his eyes.