Nothing defines changes in women’s fashion as much as length — colors change on a seasonal basis without much notice, but a change in hem lines can mercilessly wipe out a whole wardrobe.
Skirt length may change only an inch or two from one season to the next, making for a notable change, but one which a woman may ignore and get away with it. The mini-skirt changed everything — first appearing mostly on fashion runways in 1964, causing a few tremors, until finally breaking open in the late sixties. It was an earthquake of major proportions. Two women notoriously popularized the mini-skirt — First Lady Jacqueline Kennedy, and an English model named Twiggy (the nickname explains everything).
Fashion has many faces, but two opposing themes (for the purposes of this discussion) have vied for dominance since the mini skirt utterly destroyed the ladylike look of white gloves, hats and pocketbooks . In my adult lifetime, fashion wars have pitted sexy versus feminine. “Sexy” emphasizes bare skin, daring and defiance; “feminine” emphasizes romantic fantasy, earthiness and subtlety.
Apparently, mini skirts are back. The problem is the mini skirts of my youth are unbecoming for most women, being neither thin, young or blessed with nice legs — count me out on all three. Who do retailers think they are fooling when they market thigh high skirts to plus sized or mature women? What are we supposed to wear if we see through fashion’s denial of our shapes and are embarrassed by having our shortcomings exposed for all to see?
It is a good thing that I have no teenage daughters or granddaughters to cringe out loud at by my fashion defying mode of wearing skirts and dresses that hover somewhere between ankle length and venturing no higher than two inches below my knee.
The psychology of it goes beyond personal aesthetics — long skirts are not only cool and comfortable, but they convey an experience unique in women’s fashion. Admittedly a romantic, I would readily replace dresses with “frocks.” Beyond that, I secretly experience a soaring rapture when the wind captures my long skirts, whipping them about my legs and ankles. Suddenly, my skirts become sails, freeing me of all substance, as if to fly me away.
Can mini skirts match this exhilaration? Feeling young, cute and sexy may be thrilling, but such experiences are no longer available to me. On the other hand, soaring away may be even higher on the scale of self esteem invoking possibilities. The look may be out of date, and outwardly peculiar, but the inward experience is both uplifting and joyously feminine.
