We all knew that Claire’s home would be perfect, as always. I confided in Lois that it was difficult to understand her horrible personal taste in clothing, considering the absolutely flawless design and colour pallet. Her home is the epitome of aesthetic perfection, yet her wardrobe seems to be made of dishtowels and drapes.
“I suppose it takes all kinds,” Lois said
“Some kinds of aesthetic decisions should be stopped,” I said.
“How could one do that?” Lois said. I paused a moment.
“I’m going to confront her with it,” I said. “I’m going to ask her why her home is so perfect, yer her fashion sense is lacking.”
About ten days later, after I had confronted Claire about her aesthetically perfect home and less attractive garments, I phoned Lois.
“What did she say?” Lois said.
“She dropped her clothes off, right there in the kitchen,” I said. “Then she said, ‘What do you see?”
“What did you see!” Lois screamed into the phone.
“I see a stunning body, a gorgeous face without a speck of makeup, flowing black hair and legs that are long, and beautifully shaped, as is all of her. That’s what I told her. She said that she used to dress in fashion, with good aesthetic designs and fabrics. Men would not take her seriously, nor would they leave her alone. She shows herself to men that she chooses, and the rest of the time, she lives her life unmolested.”