Greetings! I'm not sure if you remember me or not since this happened a whole hour ago, but I was that woman who crossed paths with your ghastly poor manners in the corner of the restaurant. You remember me now, don't you? I was wearing a gray dress, high heel black boots, and all of that beautiful gothic imagery that offended your sensitive disposition. The leggings I wore usually garnish at least one compliment because not only are they fun as fuck with all of the cute little planchettes, pentagrams, and witchy paraphernalia, but they make my legs look amazing, hence the short dress. That scarf your fat greasy fingers reached out to grab was art itself and shouldn't have been touched, but that didn't stop you did it? I can't imagine how confused your daily life must constantly be to mistake occult and gothic fashion designs to be exclusive to Halloween, but those words that fell out of your mouth lacked the sort of class that exposed the barren cavern of your brain and shortage of intelligence afflicting you.
Please allow me to set the record straight since your stupidity would clearly make a mockery of the process and this being the holiday season, I wouldn't want to burden you with the sort of task that may stress that feeble mind of yours. I am in a charitable mood...
I dress how I like, when I like, and I do it for me. I dress how I want wherever I want to go, and your delicate flower affection for your Christian holiday has no impact on how I celebrate my life and my body as a Satanist. To be fucking frank, it makes more sense to me to don deathly colors at this time of the year since Jesus truly would the king of bloodshed. Maggots like you, those flies that burden society with your uncouth slobber of pestilence (known to polite society as "Rudeness") are no more than puppets for the ventriloquists who do the thinking for you.
I am such a woman.
So before you approach someone you don't know to grab their clothing for critique, remember that in some circles you are violating virtues of Earth--mine in particular.
May your holiday be merry with booze (since nobody would want to be merry with you) and bright with the lights of a thousand Christmas trees (since it's the only 'light' you'll see upstairs).