Objection sustained

Black and bright turquoise Thai pants offering the occasional glimpse of a calf or two are apparently not only not conducive to the necessarily solemn business of being in court, but also likely to be deeply prejudicial, eliciting an unfavourable eye from any presiding judge. This from the man who bankrolled my first bikini, callously dismissed my mothers horrified protestations over aggressive hemlines and blithely ignored shocked complaints from Mim, the keeper of my morals.... the first time in 38 years. Hell, the only time Ba has ever said anything about the appropriateness of my ensemble. It's enough to stop me dead in my tracks en route to the door and actually ask Ma's opinion.... surreal city, here we go again!
Ba's objection is enough to shock me into deliberating a costume change, leaving Ma's somewhat tepid endorsement echoing behind me. What the hell is suitable court attire for divorce proceedings in this country? Why do I not have any appropriately catastrophic clothing?? I dither over grey vs. white jeans, dirty t-shirt over current tank top, dress with shawl covering offending bare shoulders, wonder why don't I have things with sleeves attached as I feel the stress notch up another point. Widows white has got to be the way to go! Mostly chaste, I keep the turquoise shawl for modesty and colour and head out for inspection. Much better.... time to file for divorce.
P.S. - He was right. Those thigh pants combined with the shushing my giggling got would have gotten me evicted by the humourless hawaldar, whose sole appointment was based on his ability to glare forbiddingly at any offenders of decorum and impressively pursed lips under a bushy mustache emitting intermittent shuuuusssh noises.
P.P.S. - I wonder if they audition for that part
P.P.S. -