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If you're not, we still know that doof canonically had to wear dresses as a little boy in a very non progressive society and time period.

like this iconic gown:

or this one from the 1870s in aniline purple and aniline black:

or a trendy yellow and black gown from c. 1865, perhaps?

At the time I made this post I couldn’t find any historical clothing in acid magenta. However, this dress (via the Philadelphia Museum of Art) is probably close, as it’s also an aniline magenta.

The Metropolitan Museum of Art

The Victoria & Albert Museum

The FIDM Museum

Collection Galleira de la Mode de la Ville de Paris

Augusta Auctions

Museum of Fine Arts, Boston

be me at the los angeles zoo, one of my very favorite places in the world, because i love animals. i am immedietly 8 years old when presented with a little creature. i can’t help it. 

okay, wait, go back. we must establish two things for this to hit right

first: 

the year before, i’d gone to the san diego zoo with my aunt and grandma and! they let you feed giraffes there!! 

how wonderful a world and how wonderful a life, where for $10 I can hand feed a giant creature three crispy biscuits. i go “i am feeding the giraffes right now” and go in line to buy the biscuits and return moments later triumphant, 3 biscuits in my grasp

“oh good!” my grandmother says, “one for each of us!” 

“yes,” i say, despondent, “one for each of us.” 

i wanted to feed all three to the giraffes myself but since i am an actual adult and not a child i do not say this and share the biscuits 

second: 

my friend group echoes. a lot

someone tells a story and ends it with “and that’s what happened!” and the rest of us will repeat “and that’s what happened!” 

often in unison. and it’s constant, all the time, even to little stuff. often said in the tone of “they don’t even have dental” 

ok, so we’re back at the los angeles zoo. they have opened the giraffe feeding 

i am not going to be thwarted again 

my two friends (K and M) get in line to feed them and i go to buy the biscuits. i return with nine biscuits because i am going to give the giraffes three biscuits myself and i do not want to hear a word of protest. i am being fair. i am being equitable. i am sharing. no one can judge me 

“wow!” says K. “that’s a lot of biscuits!” 

“the cult provides,” i say generously, handing over their share, because what is a friend group if not a small cult 

and then, automatically, in unison, like they have so many times before and thinking nothing of what exactly they’re saying, M and K reply, “the cult provides” 

two different people in line turn to stare at us while we all blink at each other and then M nervously shouts, “we are definitely not in a cult!” which sounds like something someone who is in a cult might say 

and ever since it’s been a running bit where one person says “the cult ____” and everyone echoes it as seriously as possible, no matter where we are or who we’re around