thanks to for the image.

Tackiness.   This is a subject I can’t talk about enough.  The world is full of it!  Sure, it used to be tacky to wear white after Labor Day.  Now it’s just tacky to wear see-through lacy black thongs that ride up on your muffin top above your white, skin-tight short shorts that make it clearly obvious you’ve recently had a Brazilian.  Seriously, people, what is the world coming to?

Personally, I always kinda gagged at those “Happiness is…” or “Love is…” with the little girl and boy holding hands and in love at 5 years old, but whatever.  I’m better at “Tacky is…”

Tacky is bringing your 3 and 2 year old to the hospital with you and asking the nurses to watch them until your boyfriend gets there while you give birth to a third that isn’t his.  Tacky is commenting on what a whore someone is while having your own affair.  Tacky is soliciting your neighbor by having your 5 year old beg them to buy a case of cookies so you don’t have to go to any more houses with your daughter.  Tacky is publicly scratching the junk like you’re digging to China.  Tacky is dressing up for Halloween as Mother Teresa and having your boyfriend go as Andrew Dice Clay. 

Yes, everyone has their moments of inadvertent tackiness like the time you took a bottle of red wine as a housewarming gift to the recovering alcoholic neighbors or wore the gaudiest gold and red sequined cardinal Christmas sweater for the ugly Christmas sweater contest but were a day off and matched the retiring teacher next door.  It happens.  Maybe you were the first to order at Aunt Nora’s birthday party.  You ordered the steak and lobster right before Aunt Nora ordered the grilled cheese and tap water.  No worries.  We all have those insert-foot-in-mouth moments.

I can even understand doing random things like “accidentally” having a copy sent of the June Playboy issue featuring your centerfold to your ex-boyfriend.  Tacky?  Yes.  Vindictive?  Yes.  Gratifying?  Maybe a little.  I assume that’s the same kind of tacky as wearing a stand-up (one you’d show the kooch in if you sat down) dress and clear plastic heels.  Not really my style but I hear guys take notice of it.  As for you guys, I think that’s probably the equivalent of asking your ex-girlfriend to make you her famous spaghetti and then serving it to the new bimbo you’re trying to impress. 

What else qualifies as tacky in my book?  Well, tacky is giving your priest your email and it’s  Something’s just not right about that.  Or what about having a date for your husband’s memorial service?  Again, these are the extremes but lots of people take party fouls out of the party and put them right in your line of fire.  It may be excused a little if you’re at the party and drunk off your ass but when you make the faux pas at 9 am in the vestibule, it’s a little harder to ignore.  Just sayin’. 

And maybe I was just taught a few too many manners, but since when did we not consider the age of the people around us when telling a story or doing something inappropriate?  I’m sorry but if you know that your 87-year-old grandma is going to Target to buy you something off of your wedding registry, I think the least you can do is remove any items you requested that would be shocking or appalling to her like the KY jelly or the magnum box of condoms or the Hot Studs of 2012 calendar.  First of all, I would call the tacky police on all those gifts, but for your grandmother to see it is flamingly-idiotic-and-white-trash-low-class-stupid.  I’m also leery of people who buy a case of Marlboro lights and a bottle of Jack but won’t buy their kid a puppy book they see in the check-out line.  Really?  That is serious tastelessness.

Now, I’m not saying you have to be a Pollyanna, but I am saying that if you think it might be something Cousin Eddie would have done on National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation then perhaps you should rethink your move.  As Forrest Gump can attest, “tacky is as tacky does”. 

Now go take off those hooker boots you were gonna wear to Aunt Edna’s clam bake and wear flip flops with your mini like the rest of us!