He has a good eye and no poker face whatsoever.
"You look like you think you're a toddler," he said of a bathing suit with a ruffle.
"You are too old for polka dot pants," he once reminded me firmly.
"I'm sorry but it just looks...not good," he's said with a head shake.
"Your stuff is kind of out," he reported, making a vague motion to where cleavage would be if he had it.
Occasionally I'll try something on that he can tell I like and he pauses before cringing and apologizing. He tries to be gentle.
Sometimes when catalog shopping, I'll hold up the page and say, "Cute or ridiculous?" and he'll answer with just a glance.
I take his advice 98% of the time.
(But I do think a little cleavage is okay.)
little kid thinks everything I've ever considered looks amazing. He means it too. The other day he stopped dead in his tracks at Sears and BEGGED me to try this outfit on:
"Why do you like that?" I asked, highly amused at the thought.
"You would look like a kung fu girl! Like a black belt!!"
I would, indeed.
I love him to death. But won't be asking him for fashion advice.