After my biological father (I say that like I have another kind of father...) married his (much younger) second wife, they used to wear matching t-shirts. Without irony.
I was only 11, but I thought it was the tackiest thing EVER when he showed up in his stupid tiny sportscar with some awful Beefy Tee emblazoned with an island resort, beer, or marathon logo (they were both quite fond of frequent vacations, drinking, and running, which is why the divorce baffled me so) tucked into jeans. She'd be sitting there, passenger side, with the same t-shirt on, fake boobs, orange makeup, and tons of gold necklaces. "What a couple of a-holes," my 11-year-old self exclaimed. "What dorks."
To this day, whenever I see a couple wearing matching outfits, I think, "second wife." Unless they're wearing square dance clothing, which you will often see at Shoney's at 11pm. Square dance people are supposed to match and I can't hold that against them.
Circle left and promenade.