Consider my wardrobe of last week.
The office has been freezing, with both a brisk breeze flowing from the north, a chill undercurrent slithering in the south, and a turbulent east/west convergence around shoulder level.
The great outdoors has been undecided, with a day of summer sunshine and 75-degree temperatures interspersed between rainy cold fronts. Emphasis on cold. (Remembering at this time of year, 60 degrees seems cold and anything below that downright frigid.)
Part of the office's problem is that once the furnace is off, it's off 'til winter; the air conditioner kicks on, and I don't think it goes off 'til winter, either. Come to think of it, it might stay on all winter, too.
Anyway, if on the warmer days I wore Bermudas and a t-shirt at home in the evening, on the cooler days it was jeans and sweatshirts. At work it was pants, with sweaters over my short-sleeve summer shirts. And, well, my feet were a little cold, because I simply had to wear those cute little high-heeled sandals I found at Shoe Show.
I refuse to keep my winter clothes out beyond May 1. I. Just. Can't. So I freeze a little.
As I was out and about last week, on any given day regardless of temperature, I noticed the same kind of wardrobe confusion -- nay, I mean, flexibility -- among my fellow Hoosiers. A trip for errands at lunchtime found shoppers attired in any number of ways: Senior citizens might be bundled up with jackets and head scarves. College students in wind-suits, or some in khaki shorts. There's a certain hardy cohort, mostly male, who wears shorts no matter what. Ladies compromising with capris. I saw winter coats, no coats, light jackets. Young girls in what one might call Daisy Dukes or hot pants, depending on one's birth year. Little kids in flip-flops, or rain boots (prob because those are easy to put on!). And everything in between.
And I got to thinkin', it's expensive to be a Midwesterner, because we need so many different kinds of clothes. I know I have two entirely different wardrobes. When you live in a place where the temperature might be -10° in January and 100° in July, 50° in April and 70° in September, it's no wonder our closets are stuffed with everything from fleece ziptops to cotton halter tops, Carhart snowsuits to bikini bathing suits. We have to be ready for anything.
It's these transition seasons that are tricky--if we know that in January it's winter coats and long underwear, and in July it's cotton tops and sandals, we're left guessing May and and October.
But we Midwesterners, spending our tax incentive dollars on extreme fashion, survive despite and because of the weather. As I said, we're a flexible people.
Even if there are some of us who really shouldn't be wearing those Daisy Dukes, any time of year.
How about you? How's your fashion flexibility?
Showing posts with label fashion. Show all posts
Showing posts with label fashion. Show all posts
Monday, May 19, 2008
Tuesday, November 20, 2007
About a little bling
I'm not a big jewelry person. Ask me to choose a present for my birthday, and I'll go for the gift certificate to B&N or Amazon every time over earrings or a necklace. Books are my obsession, not diamonds.
But bling has its place, and when I received a Kohl's gift certificate for my birthday, I thought I'd spend it on a little sumpin sumpin.
Kohls stores are filled with stuff, for sure, and their web site is even worse, and I have already written about the half-hour of my life I won't get back waiting for the CSR to help me after my online order seemed screwed up.
Which it was, but that's another post.
In one of those serendipitous coincidences that life loves, I recently was introduced to a line of jewelry that is sold at parties. Lia Sophia or something like that. (For someone not interested in jewelry, suddenly it seemed my life was overrun with it.)
Since it was my birthday, my daughter bought me a pretty necklace, and I bought myself a Christmas bracelet.
And best of all, the jewelry party had snacks! Yea, snacks! Almost as good as books!
But I do have two rings I really like (outside of my wedding ring, of course). I have a sapphire my mom got me for Christmas one year that is fashioned on Princess Diana's engagement ring. I've worn it so much it's no longer a circle, but rather a trapezoid thing that is probably making my finger grow funny. Should probably get that fixed, huh?
And I have a diamond with three stones that was my gramma's--I think it's practically antique. I have no idea how much it's worth--it's very sparkly, so I figure that either 1) it's really quite fake or 2) it's really not. Either way, I like it and don't care.
I wear my rings on my ring and middle fingers. And I marvel at people who wear them on their thumbs and/or first fingers,because I think that would drive me crazy. Can you wear them there?
Well, what do you think about a little bling? Is there something you like better?
But bling has its place, and when I received a Kohl's gift certificate for my birthday, I thought I'd spend it on a little sumpin sumpin.
Kohls stores are filled with stuff, for sure, and their web site is even worse, and I have already written about the half-hour of my life I won't get back waiting for the CSR to help me after my online order seemed screwed up.
Which it was, but that's another post.
In one of those serendipitous coincidences that life loves, I recently was introduced to a line of jewelry that is sold at parties. Lia Sophia or something like that. (For someone not interested in jewelry, suddenly it seemed my life was overrun with it.)
Since it was my birthday, my daughter bought me a pretty necklace, and I bought myself a Christmas bracelet.
And best of all, the jewelry party had snacks! Yea, snacks! Almost as good as books!
But I do have two rings I really like (outside of my wedding ring, of course). I have a sapphire my mom got me for Christmas one year that is fashioned on Princess Diana's engagement ring. I've worn it so much it's no longer a circle, but rather a trapezoid thing that is probably making my finger grow funny. Should probably get that fixed, huh?
And I have a diamond with three stones that was my gramma's--I think it's practically antique. I have no idea how much it's worth--it's very sparkly, so I figure that either 1) it's really quite fake or 2) it's really not. Either way, I like it and don't care.
I wear my rings on my ring and middle fingers. And I marvel at people who wear them on their thumbs and/or first fingers,because I think that would drive me crazy. Can you wear them there?
Well, what do you think about a little bling? Is there something you like better?
Thursday, October 4, 2007
About Petite Redneck Sophisticate
At your mall in the '80s, did you have a store called, Petite Sophisticate?
I had a problem with these stores. For one, where was the Tall Girl Sophisticate store? Because all I could find were too-short jeans and pants of all kinds, which made me feel distinctly UNsophisticated, although imminently ready for flash flooding.
And secondly, who said petites were sophisticated? The store always looked pretty empty to me (window-shopping only, of course). (And, as the stores seem to have gone out of business, point proven.) Living in the Hoosier state, I knew a bunch of short girls who were also short on the sophisticated. And I realized these shorties actually had a lot in common. And as I pondered the petite non-sophisticates I knew, I realized that there was an opportunity being missed.
And being an imaginative party such as myself, I began thinking of the kind of retail I might create, if I were so inclined as to start a franchise. I would call my emporium:
Petite Redneck Sophisticate.
You know the demographic I'm sellin' to: short, skinny little women in too-tight, low rider jeans, with equally tight, low-cut tops. They've got colored hair, too much eye makeup, six earrings in their ears, and when they're not chewing gum, they're smoking. They're interested in motorcycles, NASCAR, and smoking (not in that order). They'd rather die than exercise--smoking is their workout. When they're not wearing their motorcycle boots, they're in high heels and no socks. They watch Survivor, American Idol, and GAC. They listen to country music with a side of heavy metal. Their Starbucks is the convenience store--they love those hazelnut cappuccinos. They don't take any shit, and if you mess with them, they will beat you up, even before their boyfriend does.
Can you see the marketing opportunities here? Dang, it's got the regular boring Petite Sophisticates beat all to hell. Give the plain Sophisticates a Starbucks and a classic black turtleneck and you're done.
Look at the merchandising in my Petite Redneck Sophisticate store! Anything and everything NASCAR and Harley; a complete line of smoking accoutrements, from ashtrays to combo cell phone/cig pack holders; a shoe department with the highest, sexiest high heels to motorcycle shit-kickers to cowboy boots; a t-shirt section with every country music star possible, emphasis on Tim McGraw and Keith Urban; and a personal products section including hair highlighter and frosted eyeshadow (bright blue).
Too bad I'm not more of an entrepreneur. I'd be makin' money hand over fist.
Well, how 'bout you? What opportunity with short people are you missin'?
I had a problem with these stores. For one, where was the Tall Girl Sophisticate store? Because all I could find were too-short jeans and pants of all kinds, which made me feel distinctly UNsophisticated, although imminently ready for flash flooding.
And secondly, who said petites were sophisticated? The store always looked pretty empty to me (window-shopping only, of course). (And, as the stores seem to have gone out of business, point proven.) Living in the Hoosier state, I knew a bunch of short girls who were also short on the sophisticated. And I realized these shorties actually had a lot in common. And as I pondered the petite non-sophisticates I knew, I realized that there was an opportunity being missed.
And being an imaginative party such as myself, I began thinking of the kind of retail I might create, if I were so inclined as to start a franchise. I would call my emporium:
Petite Redneck Sophisticate.
You know the demographic I'm sellin' to: short, skinny little women in too-tight, low rider jeans, with equally tight, low-cut tops. They've got colored hair, too much eye makeup, six earrings in their ears, and when they're not chewing gum, they're smoking. They're interested in motorcycles, NASCAR, and smoking (not in that order). They'd rather die than exercise--smoking is their workout. When they're not wearing their motorcycle boots, they're in high heels and no socks. They watch Survivor, American Idol, and GAC. They listen to country music with a side of heavy metal. Their Starbucks is the convenience store--they love those hazelnut cappuccinos. They don't take any shit, and if you mess with them, they will beat you up, even before their boyfriend does.
Can you see the marketing opportunities here? Dang, it's got the regular boring Petite Sophisticates beat all to hell. Give the plain Sophisticates a Starbucks and a classic black turtleneck and you're done.
Look at the merchandising in my Petite Redneck Sophisticate store! Anything and everything NASCAR and Harley; a complete line of smoking accoutrements, from ashtrays to combo cell phone/cig pack holders; a shoe department with the highest, sexiest high heels to motorcycle shit-kickers to cowboy boots; a t-shirt section with every country music star possible, emphasis on Tim McGraw and Keith Urban; and a personal products section including hair highlighter and frosted eyeshadow (bright blue).
Too bad I'm not more of an entrepreneur. I'd be makin' money hand over fist.
Well, how 'bout you? What opportunity with short people are you missin'?
Wednesday, September 26, 2007
About goin' gray ... or NOT
Can a Gray-Haired Lady Find a Date? A Job? - Newsweek Society - MSNBC.com: "Can a woman let her hair go gray at 50 and still be considered attractive? The author of a new book on beauty and aging decided to find out."
Maybe you read this story online. I did.
And I looked at the pictures of that lady, at her with nice, dark brown hair, and then with half-brown and half-gray hair and then with all gray... and immediately went out and bought some hair dye.
Because, damn, she looks OLD in those "after" pictures. And I would think the answer to both those questions in the headline would be, "NO SHE WILL NOT!"
Neither I, or my family, nor the general public, have seen much of my real hair color in several years. I am owed a big "thanks!" for this attention to detail. Because I have seen my roots--even just three-quarters of an inch at a time--and believe me, they are butt-ugly.
How did my formerly dark-chestnut brown hair--not a color that made people gasp with surprise at its beauty, but perfectly adequate--descend into such uber-drabness? I mean, that stripe down my part looks like a possum has taken up residence on my head!
And this is the kind of reality I'm supposed to accept, and foist upon myself every time I look in the mirror, and on my loved ones every day, and the public at large? I think not.
Here's why: It's about something bigger--no, not about discrimination against older women. But rather, it's about believing in a good, benevolent God.
Here's why. For reasons known only to a masculine deity, he chooses to let our hair follicles loose their ability to produce color as we get older. So he's looking down on us and we're all lookin' like so many sinks of dirty dishwater.
And in his goodness, God thinks, what can I do to help these poor ladies overcome the little mistake I made with their hair follicles?
And in the 20th century, God recreated Miss Clairol. Thank you, God! Way to go, God!
How can we say no to the generosity of such a beauty-conscious Creator? I can't.
So that's why I ran out and bought that Garnier Nutrisse Light Golden Brown with the grape seed and avocado oils that's sittin' on my head this minute.
Gotta go. The thirty minutes are up.
Well, what about you? How's your head holdin' up?
Maybe you read this story online. I did.
And I looked at the pictures of that lady, at her with nice, dark brown hair, and then with half-brown and half-gray hair and then with all gray... and immediately went out and bought some hair dye.
Because, damn, she looks OLD in those "after" pictures. And I would think the answer to both those questions in the headline would be, "NO SHE WILL NOT!"
Neither I, or my family, nor the general public, have seen much of my real hair color in several years. I am owed a big "thanks!" for this attention to detail. Because I have seen my roots--even just three-quarters of an inch at a time--and believe me, they are butt-ugly.
How did my formerly dark-chestnut brown hair--not a color that made people gasp with surprise at its beauty, but perfectly adequate--descend into such uber-drabness? I mean, that stripe down my part looks like a possum has taken up residence on my head!
And this is the kind of reality I'm supposed to accept, and foist upon myself every time I look in the mirror, and on my loved ones every day, and the public at large? I think not.
Here's why: It's about something bigger--no, not about discrimination against older women. But rather, it's about believing in a good, benevolent God.
Here's why. For reasons known only to a masculine deity, he chooses to let our hair follicles loose their ability to produce color as we get older. So he's looking down on us and we're all lookin' like so many sinks of dirty dishwater.
And in his goodness, God thinks, what can I do to help these poor ladies overcome the little mistake I made with their hair follicles?
And in the 20th century, God recreated Miss Clairol. Thank you, God! Way to go, God!
How can we say no to the generosity of such a beauty-conscious Creator? I can't.
So that's why I ran out and bought that Garnier Nutrisse Light Golden Brown with the grape seed and avocado oils that's sittin' on my head this minute.
Gotta go. The thirty minutes are up.
Well, what about you? How's your head holdin' up?
Wednesday, August 29, 2007
About my fashion
Of course you know this is the week before Labor Day, and of course you know what that means.
No, not a day off on Monday. It's the day you put those white fashions away, after carefully laundering them, of course. Because I know how much you care about fashion guidelines.
Of course there are rebels who defy the rules but we here at I Woke Up Thinkin' believe breaking rules such as this could lead to fashion chaos, like the '70s.
I like pretty clothes. I like shopping for them and I like wearing them. I like saving money on them. And as much as I hate winter, I like having two wardrobes, one for winter, one for summer. My changeover days are flexibly April 1 and October 1. Labor Day is a little early to bring the entire fall wardrobe out--early September can be pretty hot.
You know theme weeks? Like on TV, they'll show all the Christmas shows of Friends during the holiday season? Or Shark Week on Discovery Channel? Or during Homecoming Week at high school, every day has a different theme?
I have Fashion Theme Weeks. I don't announce them--although sometimes fashion-conscious friends will notice.
Sometimes my theme weeks are color-based, and sometimes they are type-based.
Like, when I went to NYC for work in May, I did a color theme--all white and red. I am sorry to report, I did wear white before Memorial Day. Just the very week before. My bad, Etiquette Grrils.
Sometimes, I get in a mood to wear skirts all week. Or pants. Or black and white. Or pastel tops. Or dresses.
My theme this week seemed so obvious. I'm sure you've guessed it. I'm wearing all my white stuff. For the last time this summer. Maybe. Unless I get in a white mood sometime in September.
The fashion rules, I only want to follow when I want to follow them. They're not the 10 Commandments, ya know. I'm not fearing eternal damnation if I decide on September 10 that I need to wear my white pants just one more time before the snow flies.
So, how about you? What fashion are you thinkin' about today?
No, not a day off on Monday. It's the day you put those white fashions away, after carefully laundering them, of course. Because I know how much you care about fashion guidelines.
Of course there are rebels who defy the rules but we here at I Woke Up Thinkin' believe breaking rules such as this could lead to fashion chaos, like the '70s.
I like pretty clothes. I like shopping for them and I like wearing them. I like saving money on them. And as much as I hate winter, I like having two wardrobes, one for winter, one for summer. My changeover days are flexibly April 1 and October 1. Labor Day is a little early to bring the entire fall wardrobe out--early September can be pretty hot.
You know theme weeks? Like on TV, they'll show all the Christmas shows of Friends during the holiday season? Or Shark Week on Discovery Channel? Or during Homecoming Week at high school, every day has a different theme?
I have Fashion Theme Weeks. I don't announce them--although sometimes fashion-conscious friends will notice.
Sometimes my theme weeks are color-based, and sometimes they are type-based.
Like, when I went to NYC for work in May, I did a color theme--all white and red. I am sorry to report, I did wear white before Memorial Day. Just the very week before. My bad, Etiquette Grrils.
Sometimes, I get in a mood to wear skirts all week. Or pants. Or black and white. Or pastel tops. Or dresses.
My theme this week seemed so obvious. I'm sure you've guessed it. I'm wearing all my white stuff. For the last time this summer. Maybe. Unless I get in a white mood sometime in September.
The fashion rules, I only want to follow when I want to follow them. They're not the 10 Commandments, ya know. I'm not fearing eternal damnation if I decide on September 10 that I need to wear my white pants just one more time before the snow flies.
So, how about you? What fashion are you thinkin' about today?
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
Posts
