1) I put my hair back in what is commonly referred to by people in my life as “the-twist-and-swoop”. I do it while my hair is still wet. I get compliments. I get asked how to do it by drive thru attendants, customers, random people on the street. I really just want to tell them the truth: “This means I was tired, late, or lazy and didn’t have the time or energy to blow dry or apply much effort.”
2) I started doing this early 60s high-waist pencil skirt with a belt thing a few years ago, because I have an inexplicable body type and it looked good. Then MadMen happened, everyone picked up the style, and BAM: I’m fashionable. I’m not begrudging anyone for stealing my thunder. In fact, I’m happy this look is popular and readily available. I’m planning on stocking up to outfit myself for the next 40 years.
3) I think my vintage styling, however, might be a cry for help. It’s almost getting out of control. It’s not just my dress-up work clothes, or my imaginary shopping online. It’s when I’m dressed down too. It’s invading my undergarment drawer. All the handwashing is becoming quite time consuming. I actually said aloud a few weeks ago, “Where’s the cardigan section?” I’m an old lady with a band new old school trench coat stuck with a 1920s pin. Here’s the problem: is my love of post-modern lit going to my head? Yes, all I want—well, not all, but at least a significant longing—in life is to be friends with Faulkner, Capote, Betty Smith, etc. I feel like soon I’m just going to be dressed perfectly enough to crawl into a portal somewhere. I’m maybe about to be a Jonathan Lethem book. (If you do not get this reference, please see me for further reading material.)
4) I wear skirts and dresses much more frequently than pants. I don’t think of it as “dressed up.” I think of it as more comfortable, and yes, more flattering. Pants and I are usually at a struggle to find each other.
5) I wore stretch pants regularly all the way through 5th grade. This is a dark secret and admission. I was so close to being frumpzilla, wasn’t I?
6) Sometimes the only way I can convince myself to go to work Saturday night is to put on a ton of eye makeup. I like eye makeup. I inevitably regret this decision when it comes time to take it off at night and I am too tired/tipsy.
7) I love high heels. I think high heels are staging mental war against me. Most days I’m too afraid to wear them through Job #1, knowing I have to run around all night at Job #2 (even though Job #2 does happen in restaurant shoes aka glorified sneakers). Sometimes I have to hostess, and I upgrade to heels at the restaurant. I have taken to wearing flats most of the time. Who would have guess it would become very fashionable and get me called “cute”?
8) I’m just totally ruining the delusion that I’m put together. It’s all good.
Oh, chickens. It’s a big day. My first column appeared today in Side B Magazine. This is a very exciting magazine; I’m excited about my column. It’s titled “Retro Recon.” I think it’s no surprise to any of you that I’m a bit retro. Enjoy. I hope you’ll enjoy anyway. Maybe I’ll convince us all to start wearing hats and gloves (you’ll understand that once you read it…so read it.) Click the pic to proceed.
There’s this pair of sandals I want. I saw them—on clearance, mind you—when I was at the shoe store buying new shoes for my restaurant gig. Those, the restaurant shoes, are a necessity. They no longer offer any support (and I’m not talking emotionally, though they don’t do that either), and have left me whining in pain on the floor after several busy nights lately. So, this whole thing didn’t start completely frivolously.
The thing is, I went in there with a budget. Based on years of having to buy shoes to wear at a restraurant, I knew I could expect to spend X amount. Yet, the ones I decided had all the necessary requirements were also drastically on sale. And while I suppose I should have just been overjoyed at my finnancial fortune…err, good luck…I wandered about the store instead. See, I, like many people—not just women—love shoes. And when my shoe budget was not exhausted, things did not feel balanced in the Universe. So, I perused.
Really, I probably found a half-dozen pairs I direly wanted to own and wear and gaze at lovingly in my closet. One of these pair was the aforementioned sandals. Now, these would have put me 10 bucks over budget, which probably made me analyze all the more. Me, I’m not frugal, but I do like to get the most bang for my buck. I don’t want to buy just to buy. I want to buy because I am so fond of the item my palms sweat. (Yes, I am a material girl and this is a…whole week with references to Madonna.)
But that’s just me.
Therefore, I looked closer at the sandals.
Truly, they looked solid, well made, sturdy. This is important in a shoe you could potentially be spending a significant portion of time in. This is not always the case for my shoes. I suppose I would refer to them as “walking sandals.” They still had a lot of strappy stuff going on, but they had a reasonable sole and a good back. You’re not going to simply step out of them strolling down Main Street some beautiful summer evening during a large festival (this is me seeing how applicable said shoes are to my life). And, I am planning to go several places in warmer weather that will require a good deal of walking…do I really want to be cooped up in sneakers? See: I know myself so well.
Really, I was almost prepared to just need to dole out the extra $10, and then, a thought struck me…are these…old lady sandals?
Are these what mothers will be donning while waiting in ballet dance studios and on the sidelines of soccer matches? Will a lady somewhere be rocking these on her feet beneath her fanny pack and Mom-jeans at tours of man-made National monuments and/or grand natural wonders? Will these be the hot trend at new PTA meetings in September? (Don’t get it twisted, eventually I want to participate in all these things—well, except the fanny pack and definitely the Mom-jeans—but do not rush me, footwear!)
Basically, is an elderly female relative or yours or mine going to show up at our Memorial Day BBQ in these? I mean, I’m sure she’ll look great—they’re great sandals—but it makes me feel as thought I will not. And probably should not.
I couldn’t decide. I panicked. I thought maybe my blood sugar was too low and my mind was too focused on shoes of function for this kind of reasoning. I put them down.
Then, of course, I bought a pair of black Vans slip-ons that kept my $15 under budget. Naturally with this purchase, I sent a text to my younger brother asking if I am too old for Vans slip-ons.
File all of this under #whitegirlproblems.