A small part of my brain maintains a constant state of hyper-vigilance about an issue of great importance to the well-being of our civilization. As I explained in the car today to Husband, [tag]paisely[/tag] could make a comeback at any moment and I don’t know that I could bear it.
I don’t know how I survived the 80s in the first place.
I have no malice for the town, for [tag]Paisley Park Studios[/tag] or even for [tag]Brad Paisley[/tag], though I just listened to his music and it made my teeth actually itch.
Even I wouldn’t go so far as to claim people who persist in wearing paisley are possessed by [tag]demons[/tag], but I’m not willing to rule it out. Please don’t let paisley ever make a big comeback. Just promise me, even if you have to lie.
I will immediately go to my closet and divest myself of any paisley tie I may still own.
(This may not be the hardship it might appear to be, since I haven’t put on a tie since the Reagan Administration.)
I replaced my paisley tie for a tie with squirrels and nuts long ago.
Consider that paisly has a place, just as low riding jeans and acid washed jeans have a place. They mark hideous points in fashion history, earmark fashion losers and provide fashion benchmarks for the rise and fall of said trends.
I’ve been listening to a lot of Prince, lately. Maybe that’s got the air all buzzing with paisley.
Hmmm. I do, indeed, remember the paisley of the eighties. Both as a print that appeared in shirts and skirts and even pants (!) galore, as well as Ian Paisley, who was more or less at the height of his (ahem) power in the 80s as well. Bad all around, one should think.