I spent last Sunday at the mall in the Tri-Cities. I've never been big on shopping, so when I do head to Columbia Center I tend to find myself in a detached state of social critique and scholarly observation. (At least, that's the excuse I sheepishly offer my friends when I leave a five-hour shopping trip empty-handed and they begin enviously eyeing my plump billfold.)

Last Sunday, I learned that I was never meant to wear a maxi dress. In the best-case scenario, I look like a fluorescent twig. More typically, I look like an ambulatory roll of discountrack polyester.

I also learned that if y...