What I Wore, and why I don't care

My favorite section of the New York Times is the Style section on Sundays. I know. How pathetic of me. The Style section! Me, of so little style! My style would be rated a C- at best, but have you ever read the “What I Wore” column? This makes Opinion Lady spread her wings and write a sarcastic retort to that drivel.
A few weeks ago the “What I Wore” focused on actress Archie Panjabi, who plays Kalinda Sharma on “The Good Wife.” Here is what Archie wore on a Saturday, no less!
Saturday-“Started the day with a latté at home in my oat-colored Hanro pajamas. Curled up reading the news online and watching the film “Downfall,” which accounts Hilter’s final days. After the heavy film, I set out to pick up a gift for a friend’s holiday party. I threw on a midnight A.P.C. cape, DSquared2 ivory silk crepe blouse and Vince charcoal corduroy pants tucked into Stuart Weitzman black knee-high boots. I carried my taupe Celine tote that I invested in earlier this year. I never hesitate when I find something as beautiful as that.”
Opinion Lady’s Saturday-Started my day with a home brewed Dunkin Donuts coffee in my midnight-blue sweat pants that are so old and torn that the tag is illegible. Could be Versace! Could be K-Mart! Who knows? Before leaving the house I always check that they don’t have a rip in the crotch. I don’t curl up, so I sat in a chair and read a real newspaper-Newsday. I didn’t have time to watch a movie. Between sips of coffee and reading the news, I cleaned my bathroom and did some laundry. Time for my Saturday errands, so I threw on my knock-off Ugg boots, put my silk-crepe Costco puff jacket and decided that no one would really notice if I was braless under all that down. I went off to the post office, dry cleaner, Wal-Mart, Trader Joe’s, the wine store and the gas station. I carried my vinyl knock-off pocket book which I bought for $20 somewhere down at Canal Street. Does the exact address it matter? The point is I never hesitate when I find a fake pocketbook as adequate as that on Canal Street.
Oh, for enough time in my life to actually care. Basically, my rule of fashion is this: If I don’t look fat in it, I like it. You can paste your name on my ass for all I care, as long as I don’t look fat.