It is an evil day in any respectable man's life when, without ironic intent, he begins to regard those cotton underpants from Target as his "special pair," but such is the inelegant fate of many formerly fashion conscious men in these mean, recessionary economic times.
Dogs, on the other hand, despite the 'Best In Show' pretensions of pedigree breeders and groomers, are generally an egalitarian and unfussy species who don't suffer from similar existential wardrobe crises. Dogs will wear any brand of winter apparel without a second thought, provided it fits reasonably well, even those hideous skull-encrusted Ed Hardy designs if the dog is especially cold and desperate. Interestingly, such animalistic demonstrations of sartorial indifference are not shared by cats, our other domestic companions, and notoriously the most preening and self-conscious of pets. This is why parades of
haute couture are staged on catwalks rather than dogwalks; why we use the term glamorpuss instead of glamorpup.
In the picture above, Lola is modeling an ugly polyester wrap thing with velcro fastenings previously worn by our last dog, now deceased. If I was forced to wear the human equivalent of that coat I would refuse to leave the house; but Lola doesn't give a damn. She could not care less what Godforsaken secondhand rags are draped around her bony shoulders. Despite her floppy ear and unkempt fur Lola still manages to exude an element of effortless elegance that is the equal of any pouting starlet or strutting supermodel. She is canine coolness personified. If only her Target boxer-shorted owner could be so naturally stylish when we're voguing at the dog park.
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