This is a completely superficial and judgmental piece. That said, let’s roll on with my rant on fashion!
I am no fashionista, believe me (my weekend uniform is ripped jeans and boots), but I feel like I pay attention to what I wear, because I like to look nice (even if it’s just me who thinks I do), and I feel like I succeed most of the time, even if it’s casual most of the time. I was thinking about different eras in history, and what we wore then, and did a little research about how we dress now. (Warning: some of these images are graphic, and all of them are appalling). I mean no disrespect to anyone in these photos, but I can’t believe that these good people woke up in the morning (although I think two out of three just kept going from the night before – still applies), put on these outfits, looked in the mirror and said, “I look good!” (Red undies outside the leggings, really?)
Watching “La Dolce Vita” a couple of weeks ago, I was struck by how beautiful the women all were in the film; part of their attractiveness (at least to me, anyway) was that they didn’t try too hard with what they wore. Their clothes were simple, and perfect (and the men didn’t look too bad then, either; Marcello, you devil, you) :
I will tell you that I’m a happy mallrat from way back; if you know me at all, you know that I’m the person for whom malls were designed. Recently, these three have taken up the main floor of the Sears at my go-to mall with their apparel:
It’s all right there; every time I walk through Sears on my way to the rest of the mall, I have to walk around the clothes, hanging in big clumps like jewel-toned moss in the center of the floor, corsets and garters, right next to the mom jeans and the seersucker blouses. And the abundance of animal prints – I love animal prints, and I think they look great in small doses, or else we run the risk of looking like Kimmy up there, less sexy kitten and more Halloween costume (that’s a Halloween costume, right?). I think that the amount of animal print that one wears should be in proportion to how close it is to midnight, and how near one is to L.A. Proximity is everything.
There are a couple of little rules that I’m working on following (for myself, but you may get something out of them), because not only is getting older not for sissies, but trying to dress nicely as one gets older is also not for sissies:
If you were old enough to remember wearing a trend once before (leggings, super-short skirts, for example), don’t wear it again. Very few women can get away with this; VERY few.
Don’t shop in the juniors section, unless you are one. Trying to dress younger if you aren’t is like wearing a neon sign with your age on it. (This is a tough one; I really don’t try to dress younger, but I do dress somewhat like I’ve always dressed, so I guess you could say that I dress younger, since I’ve gotten older…eh, who knows? I eat like a twelve-year-old, it should only follow that I dress like one.)
Cover it up. Seriously, if you must wear the leggings that are now back in fashion, wear a shirt that covers your butt. (I know I’ve slipped into mom mode, don’t care.) Even if leggings are BLACK, that doesn’t mean no one can see through them.
If the clothes don’t fit, don’t buy them – simple, but you would be amazed at the numbers of women (including myself, although I’m really working on doing better with this one) who ignore that guideline and buy clothes that are either too tight or too loose. In the ’70s, we used to lie down to put on our jeans – let’s not go through that anymore, ‘kay? Pinky swear…
Spandex? Just say no, unless you’re going to the gym. (I can’t even start on what I see at the gym, so I’ll give it a rest – for now.)
Let’s skip the spandex, buy clothes that fit, and save the leopard print onesie for the club; I’ll conclude my rant with these, my final words to you for today – if you must wear leggings, the red panties go underneath. Words to live by —-