Dear America: I know you're a hot mess right now. However, that doesn't mean you can go around wearing mismatched socks or shirts dressed with freshly fallen Pop Tarts crumbs. Have some dignity, dude. If anything, at times of crisis, it's crucial that you remember to go to the back of your closet and pull out that freakum dress. Be it the New Depression or kissing pigs disease, it's more charming if you greet doomsday with a coy giggle and perky pomp, not mascara-soaked tears and smudged lipstick. Although most of you are feeling more the latter than the former, maybe it's time to figure out how to parlay your panic, emotional instability, and eventual slide towards Third World chic into flair that might one day end up in the pages of Vogue India.

Still have those pearls left over from that time you dressed up as a Sarah Palin drag queen last Halloween? Excellent. Those pearls, along with oversized jean jackets, feather boas, and comically cute heart-shaped sunglasses are an excellent way to celebrate swine flu. Alternately, impress comrades with your high fashion instincts. Strap on a sensible face mask -- $12.99 for a pack of two at Amazon. Seems like Michael Jackson had us all beat with this trend. Impress your friends further by charming the cloak off the reaper at the apocalypse with pitch-perfect Peaches-inspired dance moves.

And while you're playing dress-up, don't forget to tip your captain's hat to the Somali pirates who captured our hearts. Here's a detailed breakdown for a proper homage, but the bottom line is this: breeches.

But if you don't want to risk appearing also-ran and gimmicky, forgo all that for salmonella chic. The latest outbreaks been reported in alfalfa sprouts! Demonstrate street-smart East New York style in the East Village by wearing adorably matching t-shirts and baseball caps by New Era. Is it kind of tacky? Absolutely. But salmonella style's slim pickings, so I apologize if these eyesores earn you a sucker punch down by Astor Place.

And finally, there's that stubborn recession thing. The one where none of us have money to spend on cheeky novelty pieces to let the world know how ironically blasé we are about the pitfalls of animal husbandry and poor food handling. That thing's left us unable to buy anything apart from lottery tickets and 40s. The up-side to our broken economy is that it allows you to remain evergreen without verging on trite. So if you're committed to letting sartorial semiotics communicate just how happy (but stylish) you are, stewing in a beery unemployment-induced fog, march on down to your local Sally Ann and pick up some "vintage threads." If there's one in the hipstery heart of Williamsburg, then it can't be out of style.

Right?