Thursday, September 24, 2009

If You Have A Y-Chromosome You Should Stop Reading Now

I do not consider myself a follower of trends. My wardrobe primarily consists of whatever was on sale at The Gap, augmented in the past several years by disposable H&M clothing. The closest I think I've come to trendy was purchasing a pair of those slip-on Converses. As a lass, money was tight and clothing tended towards functional, reliable and versatile, rather than a la mode. This is not to say we dressed in ugly crap, rather that I dressed in a lot of classic solids. And, in retrospect, I did not have the figure to pull off the black Betsey Johnson dress with the many rainbow bows that several of the girls had in junior high.

One thing my dad did frequently repurchase for me as I outgrew the old one was a denim jacket. My dad loves his denim jackets and thought I should have one too. When last denim jacket was banished from my closet in high school, I remembered thinking, at the time, that I was through. Denim jackets (and likewise denim skirts) were fashionable for exactly 5 months every 8 years and I was tired at looking at the damned thing(s) in the interim. My father, to my occasional horror, trots his out year after year regardless of the current fashion (of course he has also been sporting some very very light jeans this year so perhaps not so much of a casualwear role model). Sure, on the latest cute starlet, both items might seem kicky, but on me, they were just silly, never fit properly, and kept getting more expensive.

Well this morning as I through on an on-sale dress from last year's Old Navy offering and went searching for an ill-matching shawl in case the train was cold, I realized that a denim jacket would have been perfect with what I was wearing and, I daresay, a little cute. The dress is one of those jersey numbers that can be either dressed up or down, in a flattering shade of burgundy, and a darkish washed denim jacket would have covered my shoulders, matched nicely in the color department, and would have seemed kicky whether I was wearing the Gucci alligator peep toes or the CVS flip flops.

I am, however, resisting the urge to regress. Banishing the denim jacket was the right move at 16, and keeping it in exile is the right move now. I'm sure in the right circumstances, Lucite heels and leopard print blouses make sense too, but I'm not going to be picking those up any time soon.

Nopropos: So I watched two episodes of Glee last night to see if it was going to make the DVR schedule (it just might), but I can't really give it my full-throated (no pun intended) support because the actors are not the people singing. Which makes me wonder why bother? Was it really so difficult to find actors who could sing? When the kids open their mouths and someone entirely different sounding comes out, I find it jarring. Sigh.

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