Yes, it's a vinyl shirt. With a zipper.

I wore it on an August night. In Arkansas. I nearly suffered a heat stroke.

This kind of fashion faux pas, my friends, occurs when a Texas girl decides to move to the Land of the Hogs and develops a huge crush on a photographer at work.

I'd already indicated my interest by running my foot up and down his leg one night, after a few too many fruity little drinks. My prey was unnerved, however, probably because my then-boyfriend was sitting at the same table.

Yes, I know. But trust me, Former Boyfriend does not deserve your pity.

Anyway, stronger measures were clearly needed.

In August 2000, a group of us decided to go dancing one night at the Electric Cowboy (formerly known as BJ's Star-Studded Honky Tonk, back when Paula Jones was a regular customer). I knew, as soon as I found out the photographer was going, that I had to go shopping.

I am ashamed to admit I bought this rat-ugly shirt because of the zipper. I could choose the degree of cleave depending on how the night was going.

Eight months later, I married the hunted-and-bagged photographer.

How could I possibly throw this shirt away? The sentiment positively dangles from that zipper. It was my most effective/efficient makeout shirt ever and I am loathe to give up the last reminder of my days as a skinny seductress. (please note: the photo above was taken last night, not back then)

ALSO NOTE: I have NOT worn this shirt since that fateful night. I am guilty only of leaving it in the closet.

So. Why would I leave you with this image of me on a Friday?

Because I'm participating in this week's Parent Bloggers' Blog Blast.

Want to share my humiliation? Simply follow the instructions issued by these clearly diabolical people, who are asking moms to review a new book called The Little Black Book of Style. (I'm not one of those moms. I just enjoy sharing the scary contents of my wardrobe.)

Back to the instructions:

Tell us how your style has deteriorated over the years and provide some photographic evidence - a picture of the most hideous item that’s still darkening your closet - and ‘fess up to why it’s still in there!

Winner gets a $250 Coach certificate.

Perhaps I should keep the shirt. A Coach might make it almost hip...

Nah.