That is truly frightening. It's amazing what you can get away with wearing in the US. I can't even imagine someone wearing that in Paris, for so many reasons.

Oh, Auntie M, you don't know the half of it. It's often hard to distinguish the homeless from the rest of the population. Now that cell phones with tiny little ear mikes are ubiquitous, it's even harder, since you can't be sure whether somebody's shouting into their phone or into the ether. They all look like they just rolled out of a dumpster. I always dress -- no matter where I go. Somebody once saw me inmy typical attire and said, "Where are YOU off to?" I was going to the dog groomer. They were surprised. Who would see me? Well, I would. And how much more effort does it take to throw on a dress and a strand of beads than it does to throw on some old, smelly sweatshirt and sweat pants. News to the universe: Sweatpants are not clothing, not unless you're making strides in the housecleaning industry.

I guess the helmet is there to guard against any FURTHER retardation-inducing head trauma.

I've been looking for just the right kind of sandals, and I think those blue ones are the ones for me!

So. Wrong.