Don't they know me at ALL?

As a distinctly unenthusiastic clothes shopper, I often tend to get my gear via online or mail order. The thought of enduring unendurable techno music, sullenly skinny fifteen year old bottle blonde bimbos re-folding t-shirts whilst ignoring me or having to sift through racks of overpriced and underflattering garments does not appeal to me in the slightest. If it's black, not too ridiculous looking and enables me to blend into a crowd without any visible form of mockery, it'll do. And has done, now, for many years.

However, as a fairly loyal shopper with this particular crowd, you'd assume that they'd have some sort of profile on their internetta-computermachiney-whatchamacallit program that they could run before thinking that it would be a good idea to tempt me with this abomination:

I am invited to a Cardi Party. Well ram my face between a aardvaark's arse crack, a Cardi Party! When, in all my years of being able to make my own decisions on what garment to wear, (roughly thirty and counting) have I ever, ever worn a cardigan, let alone been willing to celebrate the concept of such a godawful gift to garments at a party? And who on earth - even those of you who may ~shudder~ actually wear cardigans from time-to-time, would ever swallow the big fat lie that the atrocities above are 'fashionably smart' ?

What mental pigmy marketer thought that this would entice me to whip out the credit card:

Cardi On...? You have got to be kidding me, surely. Is this April Fools' Day several weeks early? Am I supposed to wear that white knitted chemist's coat to pick Sapphire up from school?

Should I send them this link to explain my abhorrence to cardigans? Surely someone needs to eduhmuhcate them on what is considered acceptable outer wear. And yes, all this farting fury from someone who wears CROCS.