Not ready to abandon ‘adorable’
What to wear?
It’s a question that is answered in part by the day’s activities but also by the pervading culture of the time, the place and the people. It’s often not an easy choice.
“Your hair looks adorable,” I said. “Adorable? I don’t’ want to look adorable, not at 65!” replied my monthly lunch date.
Susan, and that is not her name, is one of those people who could look stylish in mailing tube. Slender, well-proportioned with a naturally elegant demeanor, she has always had a look and flair to which I have long aspired but could never achieve.
“But your hair frames your face so well,” I replied. “The waves are coming back.” Her hair, I should add, was once naturally wavy … and, of course, perfectly wavy. For some reason that no one could explain, her hair became straight about two years ago. Now, for some equally unknown reason, it was wavy again.
She demurred, saying that she had passed the age when that kind of hair was appropriate.
What is she thinking? That’s like saying that we shouldn’t enjoy spicy food or chocolate cake after a certain passage of time. OK, our digestive systems may, and often do, rebel at such, but beyond that and the help of Lactaid, Beano and Zantac, why limit ourselves because of the calendar?
In a society where being “wet behind the ears” has applications for the young and the old, especially when relating to things like technology and what passes for music, I think (and many would say, “who cares what you think?”) you should feel comfortable about being and looking whatever way you want. Then again, I had just paid a comfortable sum to get the curly locks that Susan was – what’s the current slang? – dissing?
Is it shallow to think about such things as fashion, even something as ephemeral as style?
Probably not, since there is not a culture or society that doesn’t have its fashion commandments, from those that think that clothing is a few pieces of greenery to those that cover themselves from head to foot. Visit the Canadian museum of Civilization in Hull, a city north of Ottawa, and you will see the most magnificent clothing constructed by hand of seal and other animal skins by the native peoples, worn in the most inclement weather where survival is a minute-to-minute challenge. In a culture where time equals survival, every piece of clothing is decorated, beautifully so, with only the most minimal of resources. Apparently, fashion or style is important, even on the ice floes. Even the doyens of the slovenly “grubby school of work” attire aspire to a “look” that sets them apart.
But, when it comes to mature Americans, one wonders about how fashion or style relates to them. I don’t’ recall any of the makeover shows so popular on TV offering $5,000 and a week in New York City to redo anyone of a certain age. Do you? If Susan is right about abandoning “adorable” or such things that she considers to be adorable, we should invest in a chain of stores with names like “Dowdee” or “Plug and Ugly,” stores where color is at a minimum, where sizing is optional and where thoughtful design is forbidden … setting a style trend for the “mature citizen.”
Perhaps there are some styles that we might want to put to the periphery of choice. Body piercing is quickly followed by tattooing.
What comes to mind when I think tattoo? I think of something on my brother’s arm that he acquired somewhere in Spain in the 1960s which, over time, had morphed into an indistinguishable blue blob. I also think of Maori warriors tattooed just about everywhere as a sign of their ferocity. Both are relatively unattractive to me.
Yet, last week I learned, and not of my own curiosity, mind you, about a gentleman of my acquaintance who has had half of his body decorated with colorful body art depicting a tropical bird and foliage, despite having a very respectable and conservative type of job.
The artwork, as he calls it, took three visits and a total of 30 hours of work. He is planning to have the other half of his body so emblazoned soon.
All I could think, as I smiled and nodded at his description of the work was, “What was he thinking?” But, getting past the pain involved, if it makes him happy, why not? This is not a young man, not an old man either, but considerably past the time when you would typically think that such a choice would be made.
It’s not my thing. My gosh, getting my B12 shot is enough, but if it defines who he is, even if covered by his white shirt, suit and tie, then who is to say it’s wrong?
When I watch young men tiptoe across the street while holding up pants that are at least four sizes too big, but nevertheless “hot” by some weird sense of fashion, I think that Susan could wear a cockatoo on her head and be comfortable.
Ann Ferro is a mother, a grandmother and a retired social studies teacher. While still figuring out what she wants to be when she grows up, she lives in Marcellus with lots of books, a spouse and a large orange cat.
