This series has been a real eye-opener.
What’s become alarmingly clear to me – should I ever be searching for one of you bosom buddies in person – is the most likely place to find you is in the Men’s Clothing Department buying everything from Levi’s to jockey shorts.
FOR YOURSELF !
Even Dan could just as easily be selecting Valentine’s Day work boots for his wife as adding to his own closet.
So much for Sammy’s deep dark sartorial secrets.
It certainly makes me hesitant to post my musing on whether anyone REALLY goes to those nudist camps for summer vacation!
Lest you think I’m a complete buzz-kill in black tanks and tan shorts, I’ll leave you with images … of … my … sox.
Can you believe it? The clinically proven explanation for this cluster chaos in my otherwise utilitarian wardrobe?
I retreat to Sox Sanctuary, confidently buying “Size 9-11” when the trauma of facing another claustrophobic dressing room with one pair of pants in each size: 10, 12, 14 and 16 becomes more than I can handle.
The sock department is not without its tiny torture. Sure, I can buy 3-paks and 6-paks, but sox in those paks match only one other sock which means I’m left with strays every time my washing machine eats a sock.
Defiantly, I wear the lonely singles – one on my left foot and one on my right.
Walking down the aisle at Whole Foods wearing the above two sox, I approached an oncoming Whole Foods employee. You know who I’m talking about: the 20-something farm-fresh, freckle-faced vegan who’s never met a calorie she can’t burn.
“I like your sox,” she chirped as we passed.
Holy Tank Top, Sammy! That little whippersnapper likes your sox! I got so giddy I gave myself a Fashionista Fistbump.
I told Maggie we already covered shoes with Dan’s earlier “when I like ’em I buy two pair” comment. However, I’m compelled to point out during this series the only shoes we’ve mentioned are:
- Dr. Scholls
- Work boots
- Comfy FLAT ankle boots
Need I point out these are the foot fashion equivalent of black tank tops and shorts?
Not a Manolo Blahnik or Christian Louboutin among you? (Kirsten?)
My 7-year love affair with high heels ended when my burgeoning bunions required surgery – both feet – four surgeries.
Couldn’t former Mayor Bloomburg have widened his Nanny State Health Net to support this sadly neglected women’s rights issue? The right to wear orthopedically correct shoes on the red carpet?
Thus ends my series on Boomer Fashionista Secrets.
That cacophony of applause is suspect ….
Seriously, dear blogging buddies, I’ve reached a few blogging stats milestones this month. The stats we all claim we don’t pay attention to, but check daily as newbies.
The stat that matters to me is YOU.
Thank you, every one of you, for giving me support, encouragement and soft landings while I try unfamiliar writing voices, share personal experiences, and muse on curiosities possibly too mundane to garner an audience.
I never thought of myself as a writer. And I never thought of writers as artists. Now I know we are.
I count my blessings and you are many.