I am something of a tourist town expert. I grew up in Sea Isle City, New Jersey, which is a beach town down south near Cape May, far from The Situation and Snookie. (Though, I have to admit, by some horrible coincidence, my mother’s best friend growing up was named Snookie). I went to college in Williamsburg, Virginia (colonial tourism) and then went to grad school near St. Augustine, Florida (oldest city in the US/tourist town), and finally ended up in Annapolis, Maryland (colonial hot spot.)  I think if I had just found the time to live in Boston for a little bit, I would have completed the colonial circuit and gotten the rare “Seen Chicks in Colonial Garb More than 100 Days in a Year” Girl Scout merit badge.

There are many standard “tourist traits” of which one could poke fun. Gawking, pointing, cameras, stupid questions, inappropriate attire… to pick on them would be like shooting poorly dressed fish in a handmade Colonial-period barrel.

There is only one trait that sends ice through my husband’s veins:

Couples in matching clothing.

At age two, matching outfits between siblings is precious, even if later it is cause for matricide once Mom shows it to the umpteenth boyfriend. Next, comes the obligatory family photo, with everyone in white – the framed one that always looks wildly dated the second you hang it. We have one hanging at our house that I swear gets bigger every year. I think it is approximate 6 feet tall and 4 feet wide now. In it, all in white, my family looks like a graduating nurse class.

The matching continues in High School at the prom, with a girl nailing down the color theme for her dress and demanding her date’s tie and cummerbund match.  Proms are already pretty uncool in general. But, much like that young relationship, matching is really supposed to die there, following the emotionally scarring after-prom party where you were dumped for the senior with the great hair and moral ambiguities.

Couples dressing alike are all the rage in Korea and some other Eastern Asian cultures where public displays of affection are taboo. If dressing in matching outfits is the only way you can tell the world the person walking next to you has seen you naked, it can almost be forgiven. Here in America, where you can just suck someone’s face off in public any time you like, it is less forgivable.

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