What do gents like, then? I’m sure this comes as news to very few of you, but dudes dig the sundress. It’s a genetic predisposition, I swear. If there is one thing I can count on from my significant other, it is this: If a woman comes breezing by in her sundress–hell, if we even walk by Local Motion’s window display, where there are oodles of sundresses–my boyfriend ceases to hear me, see me, or, in general, notice that I’m alive. Because I don’t wear sundresses–save the few that have been gifted to me, generally by ex-boyfriends, which are relegated to the back of my closet and only come out for housework and long road trips. To me, sundresses are dinosaurs, reminiscent of a time when women didn’t have their own money and had to beg daddy or husband to buy ’em some new threads (sundress as symbol of oppression – ha!). Ironic though it may be I much prefer my poofy (or “full”) and even rather infantile-looking babydoll dress. But boyfriend calls it my “clown dress.” Hmpf.
Sundresses: It's Where The Boys Are.
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