I have a dilemma. A big dilemma. A *gulp* fashion dilemma.
While most women love fashion, style and shopping for clothes, I am not one of ‘em. Nordstrom or Home Depot? I’m at HD.
Oh, I have a closet full of clothes, mostly from either the thrift store, Walmart or my shopaholic mother-in-law. All simple. No patterns. Prints make me feel like I should be target practice. And most are black.
I like black. I’m comfortable in all black. It probably comes from my years as a dancer. Jazz dancer, that is. I still have night sweats from college ballet class when we were instructed to come to class in either “ballet” pink or black.
I missed that key word and showed up in hot pink. I was impossible to miss in my neon leotard and tights which was not a good thing, since ballet was not my forte.
When I became a serious dancer a few years later I only wore black, believe me.
Okay, even in my dance years, even at my most stylish, I never wore garters and corsets. *shudder*
My tastes have always run towards the conservative, even when I was young. If you want to be kind, you can say “classic”. The hubs calls it boring. He’s tried. Believe me, he’s tried. The older I get, the more I lean towards basic. Preferably basic black.
The older I get, the more I realize how many styles and trends I’ve lived through, but not with. I really realized it today during a facebook chat with some friends. Shannon posted a pic of some sweet aqua fabric with some gold starburst details and asked if it was vintage, mod or retro.
I may not be a fashionista but I was around in the ‘60’s when “mod” was everywhere. Our house may have had the mid-century avocado and orange but I only had to watch The Sonny & Cher show to see “mod”. Or even Carol Burnett.
Retro? Vintage? It seems that everything that’s “in” right now I’ve already been in at one time or another. That ship sailed many moons ago, at least for me.
Now, where was I? Oh yeah – my fashion dilemma. *sigh* You see, my nephew is getting married next weekend. The ceremony is at 5 p.m. Yeah, an evening wedding. Oh goody. In my head I know that it doesn’t matter much what I’m wearing. Heavens, there’ll be nearly 300 other people to look at. Not to mention the bride, who happens to be the epitome of style, with a fondness for Christian Louboutin shoes.
No, the only attention I might attract will be as the ringbearer’s grandmother. And I’m pretty sure anyone who isn’t awestruck by the bride will be entertained by Grandson.
Still . . . . I would like to look somewhat stylish.
I could’ve done some shopping last week while I was waiting to meet Kate. But I didn’t. Instead of checking out Nordstrom Off The Rack, I spent an hour in Michael’s. Then Joann’s. Then Walmart. See? It’s not that I dislike shopping. I dislike shopping for clothes. But I had to do something.
So over to my mother-in-law’s for a morning of thumbs up/thumbs down. Grandson & Hubs were the judges. Shopaholic Mother-in-Law had a stack of “gowns” for me to try on. Yes, I said gowns. (just kill me now.) I tried each and every one on, most of which received double thumbs downs from the male contingent. Thank goodness. I just blamed the boys, thanked the MIL, and figured I’d find something. Something.
Next stop, my mother’s closet. Much closer to my taste, but much farther away from my size.
If only I could just rent a tux like the guys. Hey! Why couldn’t I? Hmm . . . . I guess there might be an alteration issue, huh?
Well, I still have this weekend to shop so I’m not totally panicked. Oh, I’m panicked. Just not totally. Yet.
There are still a few thrift stores I can check out.
Kidding! I joke!