mrs-roboto's Diaryland Diary
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Fashion ........ Turn To The Left ........ Fashion ........ Turn To The Right
Yesterday afternoon there was a fantastic sun break, the kind that promises summer is right around the corner. Rather than let the moment pass me by, I snuck away from my desk and out into the bright streets of Seattle. I headed down 5th Avenue, where I was unfortunately distracted by something sparkly in the window of Nordstroms. I was sucked in and within fifteen minutes I had a shopping bag in each hand. In my defense, I must say that these gems were on sale:
They're sandals and it was sunny. I was dreaming of June. Yes, I know I am supposed to be on a budget but look at them!!! They're adorable and ON SALE!!! Cut me a break.
Anyway, back to the story at hand. After acquiring the above numbers I headed up to the teen section. Despite being 29, I can't bring myself to shop in the adult department. Everything seems so bland and sedate. I have no doubt that I will be that 50 year old woman everybody whispers about because she's wearing a tiny top with Hello Kitty on it and hiphuggers or whatever it is the kids are wearing when I'm going gray.
I began sifting through the racks checking out the colorful looks inspired by the 1980's. Sadly, I began to think about the fact that I lived through these fashion crazes once already (this is the first time I have been threatened by a retro look, I sure am aging rapidly) but I put those thoughts aside and continued on with my mission. Across from me, a mother and her preteen daughter were in the midst of a standoff. The mother was forcing some god awful pink thing on the kid and the kid was having none of it.
"But honey," the mother pleaded. "That's the style. Everybody's wearing it."
The mother was wrong - dead wrong. The daughter made a pouty face and pulled a cute halter top type thing from the rack. "This is what I want," she demanded. The mother offered a rebuttal. The daughter stood firm and things went on like this for a bit. Finally, the two fled from the department, neither having won the debate. Talk about deja vu.
My mother and I often fought over my attire especially during the 10 through 14 phase of life. And my mom had the exact same arsenal of logic. "They're all wearing it." Who mom? Who are all these people who are wearing this crap? Certainly they must come out of their homes some time and I've never seen them on the street. Perhaps they're ashamed of their hideous clothes and wish to hide from the general public? Can you believe my mother did not allow me to wear black till I was 14?!! It's true, she thought black was to severe for a child. Now my sister on the other hand was allowed to wear black in the first grade! Ah, to be the second child.
I remember one particularly ugly scene with my mother. She was trying to get me to purchase some "dungarees" as she called them with elastic in the waistband so I'd have "room to grow." I must have been about 11 and what I really wanted were some Jordache two tone jeans that fit like a second skin. They were roughly $40.00 compared to the $12.00 Sears brand crap my mother was pushing at me. There was a debate about the longevity and appropriateness of my preference. "You can't wear these to school," my mother said. "I wear a uniform to school so I'll only be wearing these after school," I replied. "They don't look very comfortable to me." "Don't worry," I assured her. "You won't have to wear them." Things went on like this for forty five minutes or so getting more heated with each passing second. When it became clear that I was not getting the jeans I wanted, I screamed the ultimate insult, "I hate you, I wish you were dead." Then I stormed out of the mall to the car. My mother arrived a few minutes later with the Sears Toughskins and a few hideous blouses of her choice. Fan-freakin-tastic.
I understand other people had it worse. Pete wore his brothers hand-me-downs till he left for college. Each Fall, the whole family would hit the Converse outlet in Maine and the boys would each get two pairs of seconds (the really odd colored sneakers) to last them the year. These were the only firsthand items Pete had in his wardrobe. The rest of the time, it was sports jackets from teams his brother was a fan of or corduroy bell bottoms his brother had outgrown. If Pete's parents could have passed down his brothers headgear, they would have.
When I turned 14, my mother completely gave up challenging my fashion tastes. Things had gotten way too ugly between us. There was an incident where we were actually asked to leave the Gap. Sadly, all those years of fashion dictatorship resulted in a full-on revolt and when granted my liberties I really went all out. I would only purchase items of clothing that were black and had skulls. I had skirts and dresses covered in crossbones. I had huge black combat boots and cheap ass silver skull rings that were as large as my finger. The only color I would wear was a hideous purple that made me look like a walking bruise. I think my mom was embarrassed to be seen with me that year. Isn't it supposed to be the other way around when you're a teen?
Now an adult, I try to balance things. I'm happy to make my own decisions about what I will wear but I can also see the value in a pair of Toughskins. Last year my mother gave me a beautiful little black dress and a stunning handbag. I think she's mellowed a bit too. And I bet we could even go into the Gap again. How long could they really keep us on their 86'ed list?
9:11 a.m. - 2003-03-28
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------