One of the worst parts of summer break (school is out and the Missus gets to sleep in) is that I never know if I screwed something up. Like today - Irish green shirt, brown shorts, white socks pushed down, black shoes. If this doesn’t work, she’d let me know (sometimes I miss the eye-rolling and go out anyway).
We both know I have no fashion sense, so it helps.
I don’t have to do it too often, but if it’s a choice between stopping my husband from wearing navy blue and black together (he honestly can’t tell the difference) and going out with him wearing those colors together, I’ll tell him. He really doesn’t have a very adventurous wardrobe (main colors being blue, tan, and gray) so most of the time it’s not a problem. I often ask him if something looks right together and expect him to be honest if it doesn’t. Doesn’t hurt my feelings at all if he says, “I’m not so sure about the brown tank under the yellow one. I think white would be better.” I just say “thank you” and take his advice.
Suburban Plankton has pretty good style. Think “Tommy Bahama Computer Geek”. It really works for him. I only sometimes have to tell him that shirt does not go with those pants/shorts. He always appreciates it. Often he’ll ask before I even have a chance to tell him.
He very rarely tells me anything about my outfits, but when he does, he’s usually right, so I listen.
You make the cap sleep with the fishes? 
Totally. I totally put his cap in the aquarium! I meant to say vito. It wasn’t a typo. Honest.
Where the hell is the damn blushing smilie?!?!
I’ve made attempts in the past, but they are unsolicited and fall on deaf ears. He likes his look; I don’t. Case closed.
He will ask my opinion when we’re shopping for wedding/funeral duds, though. He cleans up real nice!
I try to get her to stop wearing makeup. It’s probably not very nice, but I don’t understand it. She landed my sweet ass, and she doesn’t wear it around the house, so why does she need to doll up her face for the benefit of the cashiers at the grocery store?
Frankly I’m glad she doesn’t care if I wear socks with sandals or whatever. My snobby brother used to show up at my house and say I wasn’t going to lunch with him in that shirt. I didn’t really care, then, but I’d like to go back in time and hit him. I think I look way goofier in a button-up shirt than a tee.
I’ve given my husband a lot of advice, some of which he actually takes. He still insists that red is a great color for him though. And insists on wearing the red tie with the grey shirt with the blue striped suit gag. And he listened to the sales lady over me last time we went shopping for suits, which ticked me off. Now we’ve got seven hundred dollars worth of suit with pleated pants. I managed to head off the tailor’s desire to cuff the damn pants anyways.
Generally I’m harder on myself than he is as far as choosing an outfit to wear out. If it were up to him, I’d flounce around all day in a miniskirt, but I know better than to inflict that upon the public. I usually have him help me pick out new special outfits, though. He has a really good eye for lines (just not color). He helped me pick out a new suit a few weeks ago. I look pretty spiffy in it.