September 13, 2007

Brown Is The New Black

The rails are removed. The nails and pins placed in a pile. The station is closed. 2003.

Most of my day has been quietly spent doing those things one always does just before they go on a great journey. Each day I seem to find new lists that sprout out of every corner yelling at me, “Find this. Do that. Buy this.”

“Get cookies for M’s Dinner,” one carefully written line said on today’s list. Did I detect a quiet smile over there in the corner. He’s been the culprit eating the cookies, not I. I laugh as I buy an armload of small, 100 calorie boxes of cookies and thump myself on the side of the head as I struggle to remember to bring them upstairs one stair at a time. Silly cookies.

Eventually, between loads of laundry and lunch and drying the laundry, the cookies made it up to the kitchen. He won’t want for cookies while I am gone.

While out there in the big, wide, world finding the items on today’s list, I also tried on brown pants. I cannot find my favorite brown shirt. It’s vanished. Perhaps in recompense for this I try on brown pants. Brown is the new “black”….or so they tell us. Discouragingly, no pants fit. One pair of twenties literally fell off, and one pair of eighteens fit so tightly they will not slide up my legs. I almost laughed out loud in my unisex dressing room. I had done better yesterday. Two pair of Jones of New York…….one black one blue…..neither matching my suit coat, but both with flat fronts, and both slide up my legs.

This morning, I didn’t feel as triumphant and returned home to my laundry still sporting my baggy, pleated front, tan pants and feeling archaic. I’m acutely aware that the phrase “tan pants” can now be found in the Urban Dictionary indicative of the yuppie lifestyle. I’m also very tired of discussing my need to upgrade some portion of my wardrobe. I harp on this design fact, apologetically, continually, yet I’m unwilling to pay good money for something I may wear once or twice a year.

For the next ten days, the point will be moot. You can find me in black pants, black shoes….thanks, I do need to polish them, red shirt and coat, and a very ugly red and black hat. After that, I will pick up my search for a pair of pants to match my suit coat.

Thrift shops are such fun.

Me Wearing: 1984 blueish, faded shirt, and early pleated kahki pants. Tomorrow I will vanish again, but I will be reading you even if I don't have time for entries or notes.

G wearing: Green polo, brown pants, blown socks, brown shoes and belt.

Duck wearing: Wednesday he was all dressed up in slacks and a polo. Last night he was in maroon head to toe in comfortable T-shirt and sweat pants. I wonder who dresses him. Until we moved him to this nursing home, we didn't even know he owned a pair of sweats. He would never wear them when anyone could see him.

1 comment:

  1. I know the feeling of being between sizes. One item at a time I'm updating my wardrobe. There is such a variance between manufacturers as what will fit. My most recent purchase was the new black, a brown top. It seems to match my freckles.
    Julie/aka aenodia


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