The other picture is of a HOUSECOAT. If you don't know what a housecoat is, may I gently suggest that you are missing out on the finer things in life.
There once was a time when women got dressed up to go out of the house--yes, even to the grocery store. When they got home, rather than get their nice clothes dirty, they took them off and put on a house coat. Simple. Elegant. Useful.
Some friends and I got into a fervent discussion of housecoats the other day. I had a 39-year-old character look at her mother wearing one, and my editor suggested that a thirty-nine year old might not use the word "housecoat." So I started polling my friends, of all ages, to determine the prevalence of the word.
I'm sorry to say it, but lately I've discovered that the younger generation doesn't know the same words I know--and yes, I know what BLING is and what MOS means (Mom over shoulder). I can even use "poser" correctly. I think.
So I think it's only fair that the younger folks learn what a housecoat is. A housecoat is not a robe. Some folks might call it a duster, but most people just call it a housecoat. You don't sleep in it, you wear it around the house. Or your grandmother does.
I'm thinking of opening a housecoat museum. (I don't actually own one, but I think my mom has a closet full.) And maybe start an apron collection. You know, from back in the days when moms (including me) used to cook.
By the way, you can find housecoats--summer and winter versions--in the Vermont Country Store catalog.
Slacks? Trousers? Dress pants? What you call them tells us a lot about how old you are.
And please, will somebody tell me where the expression "Me love me some (fill in the blank)" comes from? I first heard it from Quentin Tarentino's lips on Alias, and now I'm hearing it everywhere. Let's find out where it's from . . . and send it back. :-)
Okay, rant over. For now. Drop me a note if you're looking for America's next top designer . . . just don't call that denim jacket a housecoat.