Style goes out the window in the winter. Not that style is something with which I have been concerned. The magic word for me is comfort. That’s now – there was a time, of course, when I ran around bare legged and as my mother used to say, “half dressed.” I was a teenager like all others, then and now, and would do anything to provoke a comment from any adult.
To my mother, bare legs in the winter meant I was half-dressed. My father thought wearing lipstick meant I was doomed forever to a world of corruption. Once, when I was a senior in high school, a straight-A-smug student who knew she was going to graduate (had to give one of those speeches), I sauntered down the stairs one morning with lipstick on. Like the captain of a ship, my father took one look and ordered me to go wash my face. And I did, of course.
For some reason, I never answered back, tried to explain my side of things or reason with my parents. I just did what I was told and anxiously waited for the day I was 18 when I could leave home and be on my own, which I did. That’s what’s missing today – kids get what they want, when they want it and never leave home for good! Or they go off to Timbuktu for a few months in college, paid for by parents, and come back home after the first attack of homesickness.
Anyway, back to style. Like my mother, I am aghast at how many kids run around with no jacket, never anything as mundane as a hat or gloves. I notice most of the boys are still wearing their pants dragging around their butt. It doesn’t look as though they gave a thought to their style of clothing. But for the girls (and some of the boys), it appears that they have spent an inordinate amount of time applying makeup and all the extra body adornments – rings, tattoos and metal things.
I want to say to one of them, “Whatever you do, Marcy, even if it snows, don’t you dare put a jacket on!” If you’re a parent, you know what would happen. Little Marcy would defiantly put that jacket on and wear it until August. As for the body decorations, well, there’s probably a good reason for this – something to do with self esteem, I imagine.
I’m awfully glad I’m not a teenager today. I would really be out of style because even to be “cool” I couldn’t bear the pain of tattoos, or piercing. It’s so comfortable to be an elder and be able to work on the highest tech equipment, attired in wool socks, moccasins, sweat pants under blue jeans, sweater under sweater, ready for a walk outdoors or a trip to the store. And if my father is watching from up there, he’d be pleased to see no hint of makeup. After all, as he used to say, “You’re not going to a fashion show.”
See you next week. Stay warm.
Send questions/comments to the editors.
