Casual Attire Life

You would think at my age dressing myself would not be an issue.

It isn’t when I’m dressing for me.

But there are circumstances that affect how one makes decisions.   Normally I can pick a pair of bike shorts and t-shirt and I’m good to go.  Or pick a pair of short pants (some may refer to them as capris) and a work shirt and I’m merrily out the door on my way to work.

When it comes to dressing for an occasion that involves pleasing or not embarrassing others…it’s an entirely different matter.

Last week Husband and I went shopping.  For his daughter’s wedding.   He had no problems.  Check that off of the ‘to do’ list.

Me, problems.

We spent two and a half hours looking for an outfit and shoes.   Maybe others enjoy this process.   I do not.  I do not care to go shopping, try things on, be disappointed, and repeat numerous times.  Sadly, every time I went in the dressing room I nearly broke out in sobs.

I can not do anything that requires dressing with any fashion sense.  At all.  I did not want to look bad for the wedding.  I did not want to embarrass Husband or His Daughter by looking frumpy or ridiculous.   Finally we picked out an outfit.

Got shoes.

Went home.

Realized what a horrendous mistake I had made in buying this outfit.

There is a back story to some of this angst.

People should not judge others by their fashion sense.  Or lack there of.

Once when a brother was getting married I was relatively poor.  Actually, I was quite poor.    And I was of a size that does not lend it’s self well to any sort of style.  Big and powerful shoulders (if I may say so and brag-I admire strength).   And a larger than necessary body to go along with it.   I could not afford to buy clothes that I would not be wearing again any time soon.  I needed clothes.  I purchased black pants and an off white sweater.  At the church the bride came to me and said “nice of you to dress for the occasion”.

Ouch.   I was struggling the rest of that day.  I felt like I had let my brother down.  I felt like I had embarrassed him.   I was horrified, ashamed, and very sad.  Fortunately that person is no longer in his or our lives.   And that day when my brother saw me?  He smiled and hugged me.   Because I was there and that’s all that he noticed.

Then…..another brother got married.   Years later.   But I was still larger than necessary.  Still large and powerful shoulders.   But financially I was better off.  And I knew I had to buy a dress.  Yes, had to.  “Get to” never applies to me with dresses.  EVER.

We went to a nice and fancy  department store.  The kind where the very elegant and always seemingly elderly ladies walk around with their brooches, and hands clasped.   I was with my sister.  Who has more fashion sense but apparently wasn’t much help to me that day.  I picked out a dress.  Asked one of the helper ladies for her opinion.  She asked where the wedding was going to be.  Where the reception was going to be (fancy shmancy place).   She said “well….it is only cotton”.

I was too stupid to know what she meant.  I was too stupid to ask her what she meant.  I didn’t want to look stupid.  So I went to a different helper lady to check out.  With that dress.   When we left my sister said “were you supposed to get something made of spun gold?”

I was scared to death to go to the wedding.  I did not want to be an embarrassment.  Because I had absolutely no idea what to wear.  Again.   Fortunately it was a wonderful day and no one was anything but happy that day.

For my kid’s events  I let them tell me what to do.   (Hahahahahahaha, oh, man, good laugh!)

This time I had no guidance.  No clue.  No-dressing- myself- for -someone- else- abilities.

So the day of the wedding I went shopping again.   Husband asked one of the girls to help.  She did.  She was fabulous and helpful.   And not condescending in the least.  I just laid out the facts:  wedding, father of the bride, don’t let me embarrass him, not girly or lacy or frilly, no dresses.  Collar.    Go.

We did end up with a nice little outfit.  Plain.  I didn’t feel like crying.  And I was pretty sure I wouldn’t embarrass Husband.

I am sure if I got “in to” fashion I would love it.

As long as it wasn’t tight.

Wasn’t a dress.

Wasn’t frilly.

Wasn’t lacy.

I could wear bike shorts under it.  (YES I DID!)

I could play with the kids in it.

I didn’t have to pay a fortune for it.

I didn’t have to iron it or do anything other than wash/dry/fold/shove in a drawer or closet.

Don’t judge me.

I dress for a casual life.

And in case your wondering….there are no pictures of me but this one, for the wedding.   And I am happy to edit out all of the parts of me I didn’t like.

Wedding Garb.
Doesn’t Husband Look Spiffy!

In case you are wondering….it is suede.   Does that make me a fashionista?  I even had to look up how to spell that.