I have a Portugal the Man album, and I think I get away with wearing Converse with dresses, so I sometimes forget that my son and I do not occupy the same universe.
Then something like this happens:
My son sends me a picture of his date’s debs dress so that I can buy him a matching tie. This is her debs dress:
I remember what I wore to my debs. It looked something like this:
I’m off to knit myself a fetching headscarf with matching support tights.