Wardrobe Malfunctions

{Please note:  The new posting schedule referenced in New Wrinkles On the Way does not begin until sometime in February.}

Beware of all enterprises that require new clothes.        (from Waldon by Thoreau)

"You are going to buy some new clothes to go to Ireland, aren't you?", said my husband.

Now I haven't bought anything new since I retired nearly two years ago.  Well, almost nothing. I have shoes older than some of my grandchildren.  Why would I need something new to wear, in order to visit a place that is cold and rainy?

Cold damp weather requires layering and I am of the opinion that, when you layer, it does not matter what you layer with; the current fashion trend of "layering" everything including socks and vests, and neck scarves notwithstanding.  Have these people never used a mirror?  Does the word bulky mean nothing to them?

Once, when preparing for a very chi-chi business conference in  Squaw Valley near Lake Tahoe, I found myself in the aisle at Nordstrom's looking for a suitably casual, yet business-like, sweater since this was one of those soirees where you are supposed to look fashionably "casual" in something you have actually spent hours putting together. 

Well, I was suffering from strep throat at the time, but CEOs and other power-honchos do not care about picayunish little things like a high fever or near-hospitalization, not when there is a new five-year plan in the offing.

This is particularly true if you are one of the people whose job it is to don your casual finery and trot out your best pie charts.  So there I was, slogging down the aisles at Nordstrom's, under the influence of not nearly enough ibuprofen, and wishing I could just get home and swill down some non-alcoholic nighttime-snuffling-sneezing-coughing medicine.

This context may explain why I bought a dark brown sweater to match some slacks I never wore.  I never wear brown.  I don't like brown.  It is the color of dirt, and boring cars, and badly cut suits.

I am a "summer" - I have had my colors done, thank you very much; and I don't do brown.  Generally I do not like to wear dark colors.

But I always seem to fall back on some variation of brown, dark grey, black or navy when the chips are down.  I recall singing at the Oakland Civic Auditorium at age 16 after having won a Northern California  talent contest - wearing a little brown corduroy dress, with little brown gloves, and yes, brown shoes.  I looked like a house wren - small and unimpressive - and sounded pretty much like that, too.

We went to Italy a few years ago, and what did I do?   I bought mostly black and navy blue for the trip.  I helped one Appleseed's sales woman make her quota that month.  And for what?

Black and navy blue - for Italy?  Good grief - I got there and every other woman I saw was wearing fuchsia, carmine, azure, and celedon.  And here I was, once again doing my best wren-routine. Or maybe this time it was a black-capped chickadee.

Now David says I ought to have something new for Ireland, and by the way, since we will be celebrating his birthday there on St. Patrick's Day, he thinks it should be green.  Oh, for Pete's sake - I don't even like kelly green.  Mint green, maybe, even a certain hue of  sea mist, but kelly as in the wearin' o' the green?  Not happening.

If Ireland is really going to require new clothes I may just stay home.  I'm just saying...
Have a good day, and please wear whatever colors you like.  ...Marsha