Tag Archives: Fashion

Fashion Flash back

Leg warmers were cool (if warm can be cool) when my fashion sense was awakening. This was the ’80s, when Flashdance was a thing, the movie that glamorized professional dancers and sweatshirts with ridiculously large necklines.

While they were hip (if lower leg coverings can be hip) in those formative fashion decades of my youth, I assumed those knitted tubes of warmth were historical relics.

Until yesterday.

When I bought a pair.

Apparently leg warmers follow the same fashion cycles as nautical gear and flared jeans. In the words of Carol Anne in Poltergeist (another relic of the ’80s of the celluloid sort), “They’re back!”

Booties are big (the short boots kind of booties, not the baby type), and I found myself a cute pair at the Big Box shoe store yesterday. But one can’t tuck one’s pants into short boots. That’s what makes leg warmers useful (we’re talking fashion here — leg warmers were never desireable for their warming qualities in the ’80s either, though as a girl growing up on the wind-washed plains of Minnesota, they did come in handy).

Also yesterday, I invested in a pair of bunchy socks in which to tuck my pants. Tucking my pants into my socks! It’s like climbing into a time machine! I’m a teenager again!

Wait, no.

I am not a teenager again.

And I’m not cutting open the neck of my sweatshirts, either.

Once upon a time, there were a pair of shoes and an ice cream cone

Nike made a light blue athletic shoe with its signature swoosh in white in about 1980. The toe was covered with light blue suede, and Nike named this style Oceania.

I coveted those shoes in seventh grade when shoes and jeans determined one’s place in the junior high popularity pecking order. I didn’t need them for athletics (and, in fact, I avoided activities that encouraged perspiration), but they looked mighty sharp with my Lee jeans.

One weekend not long after I got them (did I save up my babysitting earnings or did I wear down my parents with my constant whining?), my family went camping, maybe at Big Pine Lake. The campground offered hand-dipped ice cream in the camp store that was a converted big, red barn.

I remember savoring a cone of blueberry cheesecake ice cream outside that store. Extra creamy cream cheese chunks and pieces of graham cracker crust were woven together with blueberry ripple.

It was probably hot outside, and I remember that ice cream as some of the best I’ve ever eaten.

I found some blueberry cheesecake ice cream at a parlour today, and I had high hopes for it, but there was no graham cracker chunks.


At some point back in the ’80s, I ripped the suede toe of one my treasured light blue Nike shoes. Probably not during an athletic endeavor.

There was no sewing it back to new. The shoes were ruined. The only way to fix the tear and prevent my toe from sticking out was to glue it with some sort of globby goo that dried sort of clear.

It was an imperfect solution that bummed me out every time I looked down.

For as long as I owned those trend-forward shoes, the toe looked like it had a big, melted drip of Modge-Podge that looked eerily similar to that yummy blueberry cheesecake ice cream.

A sunglasses eulogy


We are gathered here today to remember a great pair of prescription sunglasses, a fashion statement that has seen me through many a sunny day.

The spectacles were purchased five or six years ago. They lasted longer than at least two pair of regular glasses. With their Vogue label, I felt trendy every time I donned them to shade the sun or cover up the fact that I wasn’t wearing mascara.

Some of my favorite memories of you, Sunglasses, are watching the sun rise behind Hampshire’s water tower when we were jogging early in the morning, when we saw the Minnesota Twins play spring training baseball under the Florida skies and seeing the Caribbean ocean over the rails of more than one cruise ship.

Years ago, you helped me keep score at a season full of Adored Stepson’s Little League games in the spring and then you shielded my eyes while watching several sunny football games in the summer and autumn.

When your bow twisted completely off a few weeks ago, I wondered if you might be reincarnated. By no, it was not to be. You’re irreparably broken, and now it’s time for you to go to the glasses case in the sky where there are no smudges and the sun is never too bright.

Thank you for your years of ultraviolet protection and fashion statement addition to my look. I will miss you terribly.

At least until my sunglasses with the wrap-around lens and tortoiseshell frames arrive.

Packing tips for the fashion conscious

Let’s begin with the concept of Fashion Plates when determining what to pack for next week’s conference of personal historians in St. Louis.

Fashion Plates was an artsy toy from the late 1970s that allowed you to “design” your own fashions with interchangeable plates embossed with outlines of shirts, skirts and pants. The young artist, or designer, would rub the embossed shapes to get the outlines, then color in the clothes with fashionable colored pencils. Voila! A new fashion design!

This is how a 47-year-old who played with Fashion Plates makes her packing list:

packing list

I start with a killer piece — the jeans that fit perfectly, a pair of black boots or a new jacket with a Kelly green print — and I build an outfit around it, drawing an ensemble for each day. A visual representation is a lot more fun than a list, and it helps me remember hosiery or jewelry that knocks the look out of the park (sorry to use a baseball metaphor, St. Louis).

Note: You should look at the weather forecast before drawing your packing list.

Another advantage of drawing your list is packing by day. Who says all your underwear needs to be packed in the same place in your suitcase? When I went to Minnesota recently and slept in a different bed each night, I packed a different bag for each location.

I even figure out what to wear on travel day so I’m not hemming and hawing in my closet when I need to get moving.

Off to design my list!

Bling and baubles for my feet

As I’ve aged, I depend on my shoes to make a fashion statement.

When I was young (and thinner), a cute pair of jeans said a lot about my style; I hoarded brands like Gloria Vanderbilt and red-tag Levis that were long enough. Unfortunately, cute jeans aren’t as adorable when you have a muffin top.

But shoes? Gaining a few pounds doesn’t show on my feet. Now those stilettos, they’re fashionable but unwearable at any age, in my opinion. Standing nearly 6-feet tall in my stocking feet, I’ve never been real fond of 4- and 5-inch heels.

Which makes these babies with 1/4-inch heels absolutely perfect for me. Besides fashion, these state “summer” even when the snow is still melting.


Aada flat sandals from Zigi Soho: Thank you, DSW, for the timely coupon!

“Give a girl the right shoes, and she can conquer the world.”

~ Marilyn Monroe


Blast from the past: Cheesy was once a treasure

As part of the Grand Home Office Remodeling project, I’ve been sorting through my files.

Yes, my paper files. I’m a dinosaur like that.

Among the treasures I unearthed while sorting each piece of paper in every manila file were these two brochures stashed in a folder carefully labeled “Fashion & Beauty”:

Boy, did they take me back. Oh, Multiples and Hairdini-helped French Twists were the height of fashion and beauty in the 1980s! The only things missing are Bonne Belle Lip Smackers and Maybelline Great Lash Mascara.

Dressing in theme for a Halloween party of spirit week? You can’t go wrong with shapeless jersey knit and tube belts. But wait! There’s more! I bought my Hairdini Magic Styling Wand from an infomercial, and it really worked! I had the best up-dos around.

I wish I still had some of those Multiples, but timeless, they weren’t. Why I still have the brochure with tips on pairing pieces, I don’t know. Ditto for the Hairdini instructions because the Hairdini itself is long gone.

Well, yes, I do know why I hang on to useless stuff long past its expiration. I’m a sucker with a hoarding problem who doesn’t understand the fallacy of sunk costs.

But I’m forging into the future resolving to do better.

Following the publication of this blog post, these brochures have officially completed their useful life, including this pointless foray of wistful nostalgia. I’m throwing them away.

I know a man who doesn’t pay to have his trash taken out. How does he get rid of his trash? He gift wraps it, and put it into an unlocked car.

~ Henny Youngman

Comfort clothes on a Friday night

My latest favorite hang-around outfit is my slouch tee from CAbi, a gift from my Beloved for my birthday.

slouch teeI’ve waxed complimentary about CAbi clothes in this space before. Great quality, long enough for my arms and legs, and the clothes always look great. (And CAbi is a direct sales company, which I heartily endorse.)

My slouch tee is sort of dark gray-green-heather, so it goes with everything, and it’s the perfect weight — sort of like a T-shirt, sort of like a sweater. Goldilocks would love it because it’s just right.