Yeah, sure, hubby and all, but the Missus is referring to the bag she was spotted wearing after last night's game.

They know when to wear a jacket inside out.

1. I don't have to worry about ever seeing any of my neighbors in the $550 rubber pants the Olsen twins are selling at Louis, Boston (which I learned about from a photo that accompanied the dead-tree version of Hayley Kaufman's 100% guaranteed insight-free suck up in yesterday's Globe).

2. I don't have to worry about somebody killing me and gouging out my eyeball just to get into some overpriced Back Bay health club with an iris scanner.

Susie confesses she's grown to like them:

... The hipster-types I go to school with are seriously nicer than many other people I've come across in this world. They're accepting of me, even as I'm waltzing around in my Ugg boots and pink North Face fleece. Maybe they find that my lack of irony actually makes me ironic. ...

Bonus: She provides a 13-point checklist so you can tell at a glance whether that skinny dude in the too-tight ironic T-shirt with bedhead drinking PBR while he discusses his feelings about his tattoos is a hipster or not (answer: Yes, yes he is).

The Missus scolds the slob of a man who races past her carrying a fancy purse (and snaps his photo so everybody can join in on the tsk-tsking):

... The bag was way cool. But this all goes back to my belief that if you're going to carry a fancy and chic hand bag, you have to dress the part too. You need to dress up. Look more polished. And he was definitely not! ...

Hey, at least he didn't pair the purse with leggings.

Bostonia Rantida rants about local fashion crimes, including girly patchwork shorts for guys, Madras shorts, Crocs, long shirts and, naturally, leggings:

... I was in Filene's Basement the other day, browsing racks, when a soft-looking material caught my eye. I touched it. Smooth. Then I lifted it away from the rack to see what it was. IT WAS LEGGINGS! NO! I made an audible "Augh!" noise and backed away, wiping my hand on my skirt. Someone near me chuckled. I went to kitchen goods to find a knife so I could cut off my own hand. ...

Speaking of the soon-to-be-closed forever Basement (really, who thinks it will ever re-open in Downtown Crossing?), Miss M relays a fun story involving a mother and two daughters there that you might not want to have up on the screen at work.

Some Assembly Required doesn't care how hot it gets: Middle-aged men should just never wear tank tops:

... I would be willing to put on long pants, even on a 96-degree day in August, if I knew that it meant all the other patrons at that restaurant had to do the same thing, and if it would assure me I wouldn't have to see any men in tank tops.

Is it only a matter of time before this shows up in Boston? Already, local fashion know-it-alls and Northeastern students say it could happen:

Jay Calderin, director of creative marketing at the School of Fashion Design in Boston, said male leggings could easily break into the mainstream.

"I believe when you appeal to a man on the level of comfort you're always going to find takers," he said. "Since workout wear has become a part of our fashion vocabulary, it's easy to imagine men enjoying the ease of wearing a new streamlined version of the sweatpant to express their own personal style."

We go now to fashion reporter Alyssa Boehm, who reminds us that while it is, indeed, legal to wear white during the summer, one should never wear blue polka-dot underwear with white pants.

How hot was it today? Alyssa Boehm reports on some guy she saw this morning:

... I spotted a rather hirsute gentleman walking towards me on Commonwealth Avenue. He was wearing very nice trousers and carried a small gym bag. Draped over the bag was his shirt.

That's how I knew he was hairy - no freakin' shirt!

Look, I'm willing to over look the shirtless look for many, but a middle-aged businessman walking from his gorgeous brownstone to his fancy car (honestly) was a little too much. ...