Remember this awful mustard yellow corduroy jacket my dad wore in every family photo from 1992. I swore I'd never wear that color, it just looked sickly to me. Then I found a vintage sweater in almost the same shade at a thrift store last fall, put it on as a joke, and it completely changed my face in the mirror. Something about the fabric and the cut made it work. Now I own three yellow things.

Had a guy call a broom closet a "bespoke storage gallery" once.

It's the same with any conspiracy talk now, the goalposts just move to "fake news" or "deep state." You can't win with facts.