Fashion

I broke a promise to myself this week, & I feel the need to confess. Under the New Austerity Plan, & meditating on all the people on this planet that have so little, I had challenged myself to make no purchases of clothing in 2010. This is no easy covenant, as I don’t know if there is another person on the planet that benefits from retail therapy like I do.

The Husband & I have been invited to a swanky, society benefit event tonight, as guests of a bright, fun, & interesting couple- clients of the Husband. The benefit is for P:ear, an organization that- “builds positive relationships with homeless & transitional youth, ages 15 to 24, through education, art & recreation to affirm personal worth and create more meaningful & healthier lives. Each year the programs serve more than 350 homeless & transitional young people.” Cocktails, music, dancing, auction & dinner with new friends, for a good cause.

The husband pointed out that I own no dress jeans. I wear a uniform at work, & although I used to dress up for work & play, I have become decidedly blue collar in my fashion sense in the past decade. The look is comfortable for my neighborhood & my small universe of North & Northeast Portland. I really don’t need to wear Armani (my favorite designer) to enjoy a PBR at the local watering hole or work in the garden. Besides, Portland is a city where men where flip flops & shorts to the opera, & I have seen woman shopping for groceries in their pajamas. This town is informal, to say the least.


So, I broke my vow to purchase no clothing in the 1st year of the new decade. I bought a really nice pair of jeans to wear tonite with a beautiful linen shirt & a smart jacket, paired with my very hot Kenneth Cole black leather fuck-me boots.

In my color coded closet, darks to lights- solids to patterns, I have at least 50 beautiful shirts, most of which are my favorite western-cut shirts, with mother-of –pearl snap buttons. I figure if you need to touch my furry chest, you should have easy access. I wear these shirts with my funky worn jeans as my uniform. My handsome Husband wears hot designer jeans & flat front khakis with tight tee shirts as his uniform.

I am re-thinking my wardrobe. I have lived through a hippy phase in the late 1960s, my new wave look in the 1980s… but I am considering taking a cue from those wild, hedonistic 1970s as the inspiration for my new look.