Gilding the lily that is Kim Thorburn

My debut as Dr. Kim Thorburn’s personal shopper is ooh-la-la over.

And all I can say is …

So long California casual. Hello Lilac City formal!

On Friday morning Thorburn, who directs the Spokane Regional Health District, playfully modeled one of the gowns I bought for her. The unlikely fashion show took place in a third-floor health building conference room before a small but admiring crowd of professionals.

The good doctor radiated like an isotope as she entered in a deep purple (we’re calling it lilac for reasons of parochial pride) satin and velvet formal with matching strapless handbag and sandals.

Actually, I’ve learned that “clutch” is the term for such a rectangular purse.

Weird. I thought a clutch was another euphemism for what hookers and johns did in West First alleyways.

“Doug, you got my size!” exclaimed Thorburn in the same amazed tone that cave dwellers must have used when confronting fire for the first time.

Giving Thorburn a wardrobe makeover is more about making a political statement than a fashion statement. My goal is to silence the numbskulls who have dared to criticize the way she dresses.

How idiotic can you get?

Thorburn excels at her job. She’s tough and respected by her peers. She doesn’t roll over for those who’d like to see her ease up on some of those pesky rules and regs that tend to get in the way of commerce.

We’re lucky to have Thorburn, who also chairs the Washington State Board of Health.

Yet get a load of this:

“Dresses in California casual attire that does not illustrate professionalism the job demands,” read a cruel comment in a local Board of Health evaluation.

Another critic, this from a Health District employee, suggested that “… Dr. K could benefit from a ‘personal shopper’ service …”

What Thorburn wears shouldn’t make a lick of difference to anyone. The important thing is that she continues to look out for the public’s well-being.

But if these nitwits want a more formal Dr. K, well, here’s where I come in. After talking Thorburn into giving me her sizes (I should sell cars for a living), I set off to dig up some dazzling duds.

Wanting to get reimbursed by the newspaper’s bean counters I had to rule out the pricey Spokane retail dress shops.

Ditto even not-so-pricey retail dress shops.

I found my spending level at Goodwill Industries where I purchased the following: two gowns, two pairs of dress shoes, two clutches and five pieces of jewelry – all for $37.87.

Some people would fret about wearing used clothing. I figure that a health director has access to enough germ-fighting chemicals to cure a plague.

My Goodwill purchases included a black gown with an enormous white collar. I’m pretty sure I remember Lucille Ball wearing the same dress on the old “I Love Lucy” TV show.

The other gown was made out of deep blue satin. This baby will definitely cause a stir in a Health Board meeting. Or a holy roller church choir.

My Goodwill good fortune continued next door at Bj’s Store – a part of the Goodwill operation that sells even higher quality used items. As I walked in the door I chanced on Ann Willis, who works at the Health District as a case manager. Like me, she was out scrounging for deals.

Willis and I became instant shopping buddies. Together we picked out the aforementioned Lilac City formal. We also found a Victoria’s Secret black purse with a lining that, as luck would have it, matches the dress.

I left with yet another plastic bargain bag o’ fashion and $26.61 less in my wallet.

Next stop, the Value Village thrift store. I probably didn’t need to go there. But I wanted to use the line “it takes a village to dress a doc.”

But I’m sure glad I stopped. Employee Georgia Montoya took me to a spiffy black-and-white sport coat with black wool skirt.

Genuine Giorgio Armani.

Budget be damned. The two items nicked me for $86.86. But I ask you: What price can we put on a health director’s dignity?

So what did I learn from my first venture into the world of fashion? Well, I’ll never forget the words of Goodwill’s Kelly Pettit as she cheerfully helped me gather my goods.

“Secretly, you’re gonna be home trying this stuff on.”

Thank you, Kelly. The next time I go out shopping alone for women’s clothing I will take along a signed note from an editor. It will read: “Doug Clark is conducting serious journalism and is NOT a closet cross-dresser.”