Last week­end, I went to a club to cel­e­brate a friend’s birth­day. The mu­sic wasn’t par­tic­u­larly mov­ing me (my friend, Catherine, kept scowl­ing over a house remix of Oasis’ “Wonderwall”), so I started to people-watch.

The key to people-watching is sub­tlety – you don’t want to be too ob­vi­ous about it, and you don’t want to leer, stare or ogle. But even the most sea­soned people-watcher can fal­ter in the face of a hot mess.

A woman of a cer­tain age, in a white, fit­ted lace top. Wearing no bra. How could I not stare with those nip­ples star­ing back at me?

Thus be­gan an on­go­ing con­ver­sa­tion at our ta­ble about the need for some type of fash­ion po­lice, is­su­ing ci­ta­tions and haul­ing peo­ple in for felonies. (Nipple woman would have got­ten 25 years in fash­ion jail.) Yes, I un­der­stand that cloth­ing is a per­sonal choice. And yes, that it is the in­side of a per­son that mat­ters, blah blah blah.

But be­fore you judge me as shal­low, hear me out.

I don’t care where what you wear or where you buy your clothes. I don’t care if your dress is designer-made or off-the-rack. And I don’t care if you’re a plain Jane or a drag-queen mar­velous. I just be­lieve that there are rules that must be obeyed, re­gard­less of your per­sonal style. A lit­tle ex­tra ef­fort will save you from open-mouthed stares, eye-rolls and smirks. And the oc­ca­sional nip­ple flash.

The Ten Commandments of Fashion

1. Thou shall wear a layer of un­der­gar­ments un­der cloth­ing that is translu­cent, or made of thin ma­te­r­ial, to cover up your naughty bits. Ever see a grown man’s pe­nis wob­ble un­der­neath his linen pants when he walks? Not as sexy as you (or he) might think.

2. Thou shall hide your un­der­wear. They call it un­der­wear be­cause you wear it un­der your clothes. If you are wear­ing a top or dress with a low back, it kind of de­feats the pur­pose (and is a bla­tant “F**k you” to the de­signer) if you have a big old bra strap run­ning across the mid­dle of your back. And no one wants to see your thong peek out from the back of your jeans, thankyouverymuch.

3. Thou shall not wear socks with san­dals. I once saw a man cy­cling in the win­ter slush wear­ing wool socks and Birkenstocks. Hey, Granola – skip the weed for one week and splurge on a pair of boots. You’ll catch a cold.

4. Thou shall wear pants that fit you (also known as the Muffin Top Rule). If your mid­sec­tion is hang­ing over the waist­band of your pants, like some sort of fleshy mush­room, YOUR PANTS ARE TOO SMALL.

5. Thou shall not don track pants out­side the home or the gym. I will make the ex­cep­tion for yoga pants (which will pro­voke re­newed de­bate with some of my friends, no doubt), with the fol­low­ing caveats:

• You are a per­sonal trainer or supermodel.

• You have ad­e­quately cov­er­age on the up­per half of your body. (No midriff-baring t-shirts, un­less you’re Britney Spears, circa 1999.)

• You are par­tic­i­pat­ing in a sport-like or ca­sual ac­tiv­ity, like run­ning, or grab­bing cof­fee from your cor­ner Starbucks on a Sunday morn­ing be­cause you’re too lazy/tired/hungover to make it yourself.

6. Thou shall make sure the length of your skirt isn’t shorter than the bot­tom of the control-top part of your nylons.

7. Thou shall not wear leg­gings as pants. Camel toes should only be seen on ac­tual camels.

8. Crocs are the devil’s footwear. If you wear them out­side of your home, you’re pretty much say­ing to the world, “I’ve stopped caring.”

9. Thou shall not mix sea­sonal cloth­ing. While spring weather in Toronto can be un­cer­tain, there is no ex­cuse for wear­ing your parka and flip-flops at the same time.

10. Thou shall wear shoes you can ac­tu­ally walk in. If you walk like a drunk gi­raffe in stiletto heels, you do not look sexy — you look like a drunk giraffe.

What are your fash­ion commandments?