There is a store in Branson, Missouri called Dressin Gaudy. Okay people in Tyler, Texas and Longview, Texas calm down you have them too but more people are drawn to Branson. I mean after all they have The Dolly Parton Stampede (that creates a visual) and Yakov Smirnoff and that fiddle guy. So this store carries some of the greatest gaudiest clothes ever. They are not ashamed of it they put it right there on their sign and on their very own label. They shout it to the world. They scream it from the rooftops. They print it on their shirts. The other thing about this store is that it is visited most often by, how do I put this delicately, women of a certain age. They are what I would call an “old lady” store, of which I am one… “old lady” that is.
On a recent trip back east I went to afore-mentioned store. I salivated over blinged out tops and rhinestoned belts. I fondled big gaudy necklaces and tried on beaded up cowgirl boots. I paraded around in sequined pumpkin embossed sweaters and tied my waist with beaded sashes. Then I saw it. The holy grail of gaudiness. The icon of blingedness. The mecca of metalics, a pair of sunglasses that was screaming my name. They had everything a girl could ask for bling, animal print and big Jackie O frames. It was the only thing I purchased that day. I snatched them up and bought them on the spot. I really didn’t need another pair of sunglasses; but I really wanted them.
The reason I’m telling you about this is that I have misplaced them. I put them down somewhere and I can’t remember where. I remember wearing them to the bank. I remember having them last week. I remember what they looked like and how they felt; but for the life of me I don’t know what I did with them.
So if you see a banker wearing a pair of zebra print blinged out with a fleur de lis design on the temple sunglasses, please knock him upside the head and send my sunglasses back to me. Otherwise I will have to make a trek back to Branson, Missouri and listen to Up Up With People again.