If that’s true, then I must want to be an amateur wash cloth or tube sock.

My wardrobe consists of three prison-like jumpsuits that zip from my toes up to my neck. One is striped with a muted palette, one is pastel blue with an embroidered automobile (looks to be a vintage VW) over my left pectoral muscle, and the other has little duckies or something trite like that.

I also have a few unitards that act as moisture-wicking base layers.

I realize that I’m not allowed out of the house, but if we had guests over, I would be sorely embarrassed by my absence of taste and decency.

I will ask a parent to please procure some more sophisticated attire. Perhaps something with howling wolves or a tuxedo print.

I’ve seen my Dad wear a really nice Iron Maiden t-shirt that I wouldn’t mind sporting. Although, I’m sure he did not purchase the garment at an actual concert. He’s too much of a poseur.