Jan Fields (![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} cute_n_cranky) wrote,@ 2009-06-22 09:36:00 |
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Bag Lady as a Fashion Statement
My husband was looking at his extensive collection of grey shorts (I bought him a bunch of them when he was at the rehab hospital. They were on sale and met the requirements for rehab clothes: loose with pockets and a color that went with all his t-shirts I sent). He mentioned that the folks at "What Not To Wear" would have rude things to say about them.
I told him they would never notice his clothes. They'd be too busy asking me who the heck dressed me. Honestly, my clothes tend to be just a smidge less than ...stylish.
Once this winter I was wearing black leggings with blue sweats over them...I had the combination on because...um...okay, most of the crotch had worn out of the sweats but they were really warm and the right length. With my stubby little legs it's not that easy to get sweats the right length. With this combination I was wearing a really really faded long sleeved t-shirt thing with an odd purple-ish paisley pattern. And on top of that, a man's sweatshirt I had slashed down the front to make into a cardigan. My slashing was a little ragged. So was my hair...I'm prone to cutting it myself. My socks came from my husband's drawer (have you noticed how much warmer men's socks are?) and my shoes are just the tinsiest bit out at the sides, but they're sooooooo comfortable.
Many of my pairs of pants -- sweats and grey jerney knits -- were hand-me downs from my husband. He has VERY long legs and arms and so clothes tend to creep up on him after a few washings. Then I get them. They don't shrink that much so...well...they keep my feet nice and warm.
When I was younger, my fashion sense tended to be called "waifish" now that I'm middle aged, I just look like a bag lady. People overlook the value of a good bag-lady outfit. It's warm. Everything is uniformly faded and tired so it all matches in an odd way. It's very cosy. And if you spill on it or rip it -- it's all good.
But it does mean my husband sometimes stops me at the door and reminds me to change before we go somewhere. Since I'm the lady who once dashed to the library in my jammies, clearly it helps to have a keeper that way.
My husband was looking at his extensive collection of grey shorts (I bought him a bunch of them when he was at the rehab hospital. They were on sale and met the requirements for rehab clothes: loose with pockets and a color that went with all his t-shirts I sent). He mentioned that the folks at "What Not To Wear" would have rude things to say about them.
I told him they would never notice his clothes. They'd be too busy asking me who the heck dressed me. Honestly, my clothes tend to be just a smidge less than ...stylish.
Once this winter I was wearing black leggings with blue sweats over them...I had the combination on because...um...okay, most of the crotch had worn out of the sweats but they were really warm and the right length. With my stubby little legs it's not that easy to get sweats the right length. With this combination I was wearing a really really faded long sleeved t-shirt thing with an odd purple-ish paisley pattern. And on top of that, a man's sweatshirt I had slashed down the front to make into a cardigan. My slashing was a little ragged. So was my hair...I'm prone to cutting it myself. My socks came from my husband's drawer (have you noticed how much warmer men's socks are?) and my shoes are just the tinsiest bit out at the sides, but they're sooooooo comfortable.
Many of my pairs of pants -- sweats and grey jerney knits -- were hand-me downs from my husband. He has VERY long legs and arms and so clothes tend to creep up on him after a few washings. Then I get them. They don't shrink that much so...well...they keep my feet nice and warm.
When I was younger, my fashion sense tended to be called "waifish" now that I'm middle aged, I just look like a bag lady. People overlook the value of a good bag-lady outfit. It's warm. Everything is uniformly faded and tired so it all matches in an odd way. It's very cosy. And if you spill on it or rip it -- it's all good.
But it does mean my husband sometimes stops me at the door and reminds me to change before we go somewhere. Since I'm the lady who once dashed to the library in my jammies, clearly it helps to have a keeper that way.
