Once a year I roll open my closet doors and stare at the contents in dismay. Styles change, and I make a feeble effort to keep a few outfits that look current. Usually I just turn my away in ditherment.
There are several magazines that offer encouragement, and there are a couple of online pages that encourage us to be different. Different used to be me. Now days, as time shrinks, my goal is to be mediocre. I refuse to spend a lot of money on clothes, and there isn’t much imaginative wear for those of us who are of larger size and shop thrift stores.
Tunics are in. I shan’t mention what a tunic does to one with the hip width I own. Cropped shirts are in again too. Do you all really want to see my pot gut and antique surgical scars? I didn’t think so. Black was always in for the older, large woman, but now even my friend Bobbie is wearing screaming pink. Jackets were out but seem to be in again. I dither indeed.
Both George and I are to read before a couple of hundred drunks tonight. I donated vast amounts of oversized pants to the Discovery Shop lately, but I still have the basic black and navy blue dress pants. I haven’t donated any shirts at all however out of style they are. I own four jackets, two pair of dress shoes, and a vast collection of outrageous, folk styled jewelry. Hutzpah will carry my day.
This week, the best dressed person I know wore black and red. It took a lot of hard work on her part to be allowed to wear that outfit. Bravo Megan.