Scary Jeans

In honour of Halloween, I will write about something else I find disturbing.  Skinny jeans.

The first time I saw them I sighed.  I knew that this fashion – the painted-on look – was one I would not touch.  Some people don’t care how they look in certain styles – they just wear whatever they want – but I’m not one of those people.

As I’ve mentioned before, I’m not a twig so I have no intention of squeezing myself into such pants and inflicting pain on myself and those who see me in them.  That’s okay.  I’m at a place in my life where I can wear my boot-cut or straight-leg jeans and say pooh-pooh to particular fashions.

My daughters, however, do care about the latest styles.  When I take them shopping and we have trouble finding trendy jeans that will fit them, what do they think?  That they’re fat.

This upsets me.  My husband is 6’4” and I’m 5’8”.  Petite doesn’t run in our family, but even when I was totally skinny at 125 pounds, I still had to buy XL pants and queen-size pantyhose.

I don’t get it.

We spend time convincing women and girls that they are beautiful “just the way they are”.  We expend energy promoting self-esteem and healthy body image.  We explain that models in magazines are airbrushed and altered.

Then we allow skinny jeans and short-shorts to take over.  I thought we had smartened up and left the era of super skinny being the norm, but I guess we’re back.

It’s scarier than Halloween.

An End and A Beginning

This is it:  The last week before school starts again.

About this time every year I look back on the summer and wonder where the time went.  Did we do everything we wanted to do?  Did we accomplish our summertime goals?

For me, the first goal of summer is to relax.  Sleeping in.  Hanging out.  Playing together.  Reading alone.  Preparing easy meals.  Not packing school lunches – yay!

Then I think about the things we need to do that are easier to accomplish during the summer, like swim lessons, painting with the windows open, and having garage sales.

The away vacations and leisure activities are bonuses – things to create family memories or write about the first day of school when the teacher assigns the inevitable “What Did You Do This Summer?” essay.

The last few weeks of August take on a life of their own as we prepare to go back to school.  This year I’m determined not to fall into the back to school shopping trap, though sometimes the school supply lists baffle me.  Since when are white-out and reinforcements necessary items?  At least I’m happy to see only twelve pencils listed instead of the sixty they asked for one year in Fort McMurray.  Sixty pencils?  That worked out to more than one a week!

In any case, as the end of summer arrives, another season quickly takes its place.  Funny how that works.

Now what do I want to accomplish this fall?

Lazy, Hazy, and Crazy

The lyrics of the popular 1963 song by Nat King Cole say that it’s time to “roll out those lazy, hazy, crazy days of summer”.

“Lazy” alright.  You’d think that being able to get outdoors would automatically mean more exercise but, unfortunately, lying on the beach, lounging on the back porch, and chilling in the basement don’t seem to burn many calories.

According to the song, we should be breaking out the “soda and pretzels and beer”.  For my family it would be more like burgers and ice-cream treats and tall glasses of lemonade, but they still don’t seem to keep the bathroom scales in balance.

I have more luck keeping off the pounds during the winter when I don’t need to think twice about turning on the oven to cook up a healthy, organic roast beef dinner, and when ice-cream is used as a garnish on homemade apple crisp or peach cobbler.

The good news is: my last year’s swimsuit is too big for me this summer.  The bad news is: I get to go shopping again for a cute and modest swimsuit – one that isn’t cut down to my navel or up to my waist and doesn’t float over my head when I jump into the water.  Ah, swimsuit shopping.  It definitely makes for a “crazy” day.

I’m not sure about the “hazy” part, but if I don’t eat those fresh garden veggies and ripe summer fruit, I may need to be “rolled out” by the end of the summer.

Fads of Fashion or Sense of Style

My daughter has a feather in her hair.  It didn’t sprout spontaneously from one of her follicles but was skillfully placed there by a stylist and secured with a special bead.  Her friend has one too.  So does her friend’s friend.  They’re everywhere.

I think it’s weird.  No weirder, though, I suppose, than the bushy hair and plaid bell-bottoms of my birth decade or the “bangs to heaven” and neon shoelaces of my teenage years.

Let’s face it:  Most trendy fashions are weird.  Why do we let ourselves get sucked into the madness?

At least this feather-in-the-hair is just a fad and not a long-term commitment like tattoos or piercings.  At least she won’t end up with scars or infections or wrinkly, green lines in thirty years.  No, I guess the blue and black striped feather in her hair isn’t too bad.  She wanted it.  She researched it.  She asked permission, argued her case, booked the appointment, and paid for it.

I’m glad she chose a feather and not some outrageous dye-job or cut.  Granted, this is coming from a woman who has never dyed her hair or done anything different with it since 1992.  As the gray creeps in, however, I’m beginning to see the virtues of streaks.  It may be time to rethink my conservative outlook on hair.

Fortunately, that’s what personal style is all about.  Unlike fashion which changes daily and is influenced by people who know nothing about us, style is about personal preference, lifestyle, and taste.  It’s what allows me to say no to low rise jeans that I can’t quite stuff myself into or stiletto heals that weren’t meant for chasing toddlers.

Some fads are fun, but thank goodness for the sense of style.