If you see a person dressed for the office walking a dog down the street in the city around mid-day, it’s just a lunch hour poop n’ cruise.
Rover needs to go, NBD.
But a woman walking a dog around the ‘burbs at high noon wearing a wrap dress and kicky shoties, (or anything other than full-blown coordinating workout wear, actually?)
Well, judging from the jaw-slacked stares, an ailen landing in the pocket park would be less shocking.
It isn’t that I’m overdressed for my workout walk.
He won’t make in his own lawn, people, but I have a 1pm face-to-face at the office.
I’m not casing the joint in my flipping Franco Sarto heels with my dog as “cover”, FFS.