Tuesday, October 25, 2005


As I was ambling off the train into the city this morning, zoning through the train station rush madhouse thinking about the predictably disastrous appointment of Bernanke to head the private money-making machine that is the Fed (can things get worse? yes indeed!) vis-a-vis Japan's 723 trillion yen public debt (with annual tax revenue of less than 50 trillion yen), my mind was gratifyingly but bizarrely distracted by the young woman escalating in front of me who wore, starting at the top, reddishly bleached hair in the latest just-saved-from-drowning look, which hair straggled down to a clipped white fur bellhop jacket, below which a pink satin belly band trimmed with white lace, like the lowest ten inches of a slip, edged over green camouflage multipocketed army pants tied around the ankles and bottomed out by chartreuse high heels trimmed with green ribbon over slightly higher white socks, when I realized that fashions are reflecting the state of the world to an alarming degree.

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