I have never been stylish or trendy or classy, ever, in my entire life. When I was a teenager Twiggy was the model du jour. She was ultra-skinny with long, stick thin legs and knobby knees. I am short, chunky, with too many pounds, and large breasts. Twiggy must have had breasts, but you would not know it from the clothes she wore. I looked pregnant in the popular dresses of the time.
Before jeans became the uniform of my generation the preppy look prevailed. I did not care for it, and could not afford it. I liked the jeans and sweater look. The clothes hid a lot of flaws. My work clothes were conservative, affordable, and uninspiring.
Fast forward to the present. Nothing much has changed fashion-wise. My wardrobe is still not chic or elegant or modern. I want clothes I like, outfits that are comfortable, fit well, are reasonably priced and a bit beyond boring.
A couple of years ago I bought a navy blue wool cape. It works well in all but the coldest weather. I love it. On plane or car trips I drape the cape over me and use it as a blanket. It scrunches up and takes up less space than a coat.
And then there are my hats. I like hats. They cover my hair and part of my face. I was never skilled at hair or make-up. Hats keep me warm in winter, protect my face in summer, and hide my hair and face. At my age comfort, concealment, and function are most important.
My uniform for a recent trip was jeans, comfortable boots, my blue cape, and a wide brimmed brown hat. And – something that never happened to me – people commented positively about my hat and cape – I like that hat! – Love your cape! All of a sudden I was stylish. Who would have thought…?
I have been thinking about the moral of this story. Maybe it is the old adage be yourself. Or maybe it was just a fluke.