I don't mean to go around insulting older people. It's just that when the Palinode and I packed to move into a new apartment a week ago, I noticed a disturbing trend slowly ebbing into my own wardrobe that is usually found in the clothing of the older women I frequently see walking through a local mall. A lot of my clothing was gravitating toward somewhat dowdy, pale shades of earth tones, as though I were trying to camouflage myself against a boring sofa.
It was a terrifying realization. How could I be falling victim to such tragic fashion tedium at the less-than-elderly age of thirty-seven? I boxed up the offending items and got rid of them. Every since, I've been working on a mental list of fashion crimes I am going to avoid until death:
- My outfits will never be uniformly beige, floral patterned, or of pale Easter colours. If dressing up as hospital hallways were a Halloween costume, then it's Halloween every day for the woman who wears them.
- Beige shoes don't really go with everything, even if your orthopedist says they do. They do complete the hospital hallway Halloween outfit quite effectively, though.
- Matching red earrings to a red necklace to red nailpolish to red socks is far too matchy-matchy, and it doesn't perk up an outfit nearly the way some people think it does. Doing anything head-to-toe actually lends to the whole uniformity thing mentioned in number one.
- I will not ever wear my pants hemmed so short that they barely graze the tops of my shoes. If this, for some reason, becomes physically impossible, then I will wear skirts.
- Loose-fitting jeans with elastic waists are the devil. They make one's butt look like a hobo's bindle. If my expanding waist makes real jeans too uncomfortable, then I will forego wearing them altogether. Amen.