Saturday, October 19, 2013
The Nightmare of Past Personal Fashions
Fashions change and unfortunately, more often than not, looking back our past choices were painful. At least in my case, "What were you thinking?" comes to mind. But, fifty something years gives one a half century to make errors. A scary thought.
And, usually only a few decades are painful - thank God. Luckily, we learn from our errors and go for several years without making fools of ourselves before once again choosing outfits that photos years later make us question our decisions.
Evening wear is a prime example of the ebb and flow of good taste. Luckily, the fashion Gods shine down upon us and, for a few hours, allow most us to look sophisticated and sexy. Everyone needs a little glamour in their life to know how the rich and famous live.
In going through my Mama's things after she died, we found pictures of her and my Daddy dressed for formal affairs while they were at Wake Forest and then when he was at the Medical College. Daddy looked quite dashing in his white dinner jacket and Mama was so elegant in her gown with the strapless satin bodice and tulle skirt. Other photos showed her in a satin gown with a tight bodice and flowing skirt.
My daughters always had very sophisticated beaded gowns that flowed over them like liquid. The, mostly strapless, designs made them look much older than their teen years. Moving across our den they seemed to flow rather than walk. Even though you never want your teens to grow up too fast, it would always take you aback to see your daughter look so fabulous.
Also, in Mama's things I came across the dress I had for my first formal, a Junior Senior Prom. I had not seen it in a while, so long ago, I had forgotten about it. As I pulled it out of the box, I noticed the pink dotted Swiss skirt had brown stains on it. The wide white eyelet shoulder straps were faded in yellow, as was the white eyelet edged apron that fell over the front on the skirt. Perhaps, my idea of "sleek, sophisticated, stylist, and sexy" had yet to be developed. Well, better yet, looking back at that dress, I doubt those four words were even in my vocabulary.
One would think that fashion sense would be genetic. If so, it definitely skipped a generation here. Finding that dreadful dress was so painful I just hoped no one remembered it. Right now I am going to claim ignorance rather than bad taste. Better yet, I am going to claim amnesia.