Wednesday, January 26, 2011

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



    You're my new Versatile Blogger. :)

  2. Say What? - I am not sure what a Versatile Blogger is, but thank you, I think?

    Is it a very flexible virtual blogger? :)

  3. David is right! You gotta have something green to wear in Ireland! :-)

  4. I'm pulling for a little green too... but having said that, I would probably head straight for the brown sweater!
    Wear whatever you want to, it's going to be wonderful!

  5. Hi Marsha,

    I try colours, but usually wear black with them - I am a dark colour person, for my own clothes anyway. Although I love the colour turquiose and all shades of mauve. God Bless Nita

  6. Wait, you're coming to Ireland?! Email me friend, I might have to make a trip that direction if it meant meeting up! I'm only a hop across the Irish Sea.

    As far as clothes, a great coloured scarf or pashima goes a long way to spruce up my usually drab black wardrobe.

  7. You make me smile Marsha. By all means, be bold. Make a statment. Buy some kelly green. Maybe you could save it for a private birthday celebration?!

  8. Marsha, you are so funny! I love this post. And I wish I knew what season I am. I think I'm a summer too, but I'm never confident with any color except aqua blue-green turquoise, whatever you want to call it. :-)

  9. To the Old Geezer - Well, the LOC (Lovable Old Coot) I am married to would agree with you. Why is it that you guys always stick together? is there a secret fraternity of Geezers and Coots that I should know about?

    Sonja and Nita - good to hear from you.

    Miriam - If we run across each other in Ireland (well, into, not across each other - that would be painful, wouldn't it?) we will have to have a cup of tea together. :)

    Tami and Rosslyn - THANKS ladies for the returned smiles. If you think this is oddball, wait till you read the posts coming soon on my next "trip across America - again" - should be some fun! We leave tomorrow.

  10. Yes, you're a "summer" and you can most certainly wear those beautiful shades of blue and lavender - periwinkle not withstanding.

    Me, on the other hand, I'm an "autumn." That means that brown, the color of dirt, is my best color. Brown, beige, and blah. Did I ever mention that luck has never been my friend? I can do a dark forest green. But blue? In any shade, that's a stretch. In fact, any pastel, is hard put on me. There is only one particular brown-based shade of yellow that I can pull off.

    Drab. That's me.

    For Ireland, go pastel green. You can do a soft green nicely.

  11. D.J. - Yea - right - you do "blah" - you forget that I was the one standng next to you in the store the other day, when the lady looked up and wistfully said, "Do you do TV commercials? You should, you know."

    Blah is not you - never has been - never will be!