Slowly, surely, I have been in the process of cleaning out my closet.
I was kind of amazed at the things I used to wear.
Some things were old and outdated – and if they do come back in style, someone should protest.
The best way to describe some of my clothing choices had to have been “trendy” and on “huge markdown rack.”
Some things were too small.
And some things were just bad.
There was a pair of Daisy Duke blue jean shorts I wore at some point.
Why, I don’t know. They didn’t look the least bit flattering.
Several skirts were tossed in the pile that were way too short.
“Did you ever wear these?” Lamar asked, picking up the tiny swaths of clothing.
Granted, it was when I was much younger and “Ally McBeal” was popular.
There’s no way I would wear them now.
I probably shouldn’t have then, but I was in my mid-to-late 20s and a lot thinner.
That’s my excuse for a lot of my mistakes – I was in my 20s and I was thinner. But age and weight can’t be blamed for everything.
Granny used to get her hackles up about Cher’s outfits, saying how she paraded around nearly naked and she thought that was beyond atrocious.
“If I looked like Cher, I’d probably go around in my undies and fishnet,” Mama said.
At the time, Mama was probably in her early 60s and beginning to get fluffy.
Granny had snorted at us and declared it just deplorable, for a grown woman to go around nearly naked.
“Her and Madonna – always gotta be showing something,” Granny had declared. “It’s disgusting.”
I saw Madonna on the cover of a magazine the other day. She had on a corset and pantyhose. I think she’s 56. She still looks good. If I looked like her, I’d maybe hope someone would put me on the cover of a magazine.
Does that mean she should be wearing her unmentionables for all to see?
Maybe not. But she is a celebrity.
Her livelihood depends on her being a tad bit over the top.
Granny would say she was 56 and needed to start dressing more respectable.
At what point do we as women say we are too old to wear some things?
I mean, I am not Madonna but some things just do not need to be worn in public regardless of age.
I used to think if it fit, it was fine. As I have gotten older, I’ve learned being able to squeeze into something didn’t mean it should be worn.
Not just to spare the eyes of the general populous either; have you ever been impaled by a too-tight pair of jeans? No one needs to witness that.
Some of my clothes no longer fit and even if I got back that size, I had enough self-respect to not wear them.
Like the cow-print suede skirt I don’t know what to do with – why did I even buy that?
But here I am, in my early 40s and I am wondering what I should be wearing.
I’ve traded in those short skirts for jeans and leggings, and instead of a fitted blouse, I prefer layered, soft t-shirts.
The softer the better. I am scared that comfort is now a factor in clothing purchases.
I am not sure if jeans and leggings are age appropriate, but that’s what I am wearing. And before someone tells me leggings are not britches, they are worn under a tunic.
I am not in a world that wears suits or hose anymore, so I can dress pretty much like a grown up five-year-old, minus the matching Garanimal characters.
I’ve seen some women who tried to dress way younger than their years, with mini-skirts, cowboy boots and tank tops. I didn’t know what to think of the grandma I saw wearing her ensemble other than she must have tremendous confidence.
Not every grandmother’s wardrobe requirements includes elastic waistbands like my Mama’s, just like not everyone is Madonna.
But trying to know what to wear is such a challenge for women after they reach some unknown age-post grad, post-baby, and pre-nursing home. We never know if we are showing too much, trying too hard, or just in general looking like a bunch of floozies.
It is a fine line we have to walk. Trying to look respectable, feminine and stylish.
If you shop in the ‘junior’ sporting wear, you spend most of your life at the gym and half naked; if you shop in ‘misses’ you want to audition as Dorothy in a remake of “The Golden Girls.”
We don’t know whether to be June Cleaver with our pearls or Madonna with whatever she is barely wearing.
No matter what we wear, someone has something to say. We may not be on the cover of a magazine but we’ve all got our critics.
By the time I get done, I should have plenty of closet space.
And time to figure out my middle-aged dress code.