Attention! To women who hold being a fashion plate a high priority while juggling work, glasses of wine, and attending to the enormous task of laughing at political candidates, I offer, as a public service, my Annual Fashion Expertise. I’m using caps so you know this is official and extremely trustworthy.
First, a few fashion truths:
1. I know nothing. Apparently neither do most Americans, as evidenced by the purchasing of horridly expensive ripped jeans, appropriately called distressed. Aren’t we all.
2. The major high-fashion websites of 2015 show the usual weird stuff. Supposedly, it’s chic to be dressed in a 1950s-type waitress uniform, or any number of other uniforms or pieces thereof, a fashion statement frightening to me on so many levels. Also, loose, crude belts made of rope are in. I could make a fortune on the contents of my garage – old nursing scrubs I now use for rags, and various and mildewed lengths of rope saved for no good reason. Until now.
3. The prettiest clothing for women is made for those between newborn and 3: soft foot-in pajamas, cotton onesies and the standard pink tutu and tights.
In 2013, I shopped relentlessly for loose button-down over-shirts. I had an old, worn-out men’s work shirt I wore with a cami or T-shirt underneath, thereby hiding a million sins connected to Mr. Haagen and Mrs. Dazs. I searched all over, and shop owners looked at me like I was some kind of Martian. (I probably should have left the antenna tiara at home.) By 2014, those rolled-up sleeved open shirts were everywhere (see above reference to trustworthy Annual Fashion Expertise) – even in Gap Kids for toddlers.
Normally, I’d ask my mailman about fashion trends. He may not always ring twice, but who else would have his finger on the true pulse of American fashion? He delivers those gorgeous Apost … Anthro … well, A-something catalogs and L.L. Bean packages. Don’t you think the postman has a pretty good idea of what’s inside? Please. He knows my lab results before I do.
This year, my fashion research began innocently with the purchase of a new pair of lavender capri pants – too long, so I have to fold them up. Every five minutes. If you see a middle-years woman with two different lengths of pant legs, that’s me. I bought a shirt to match, with bits of purple-ish pattern with shiny things on it, which I have worn once because I realized it was a big mistake to think I was a purple-ish pattern with shiny things on it person, so the PPWSTOI shirt hangs in my closet with all the other clothing mistakes I’ve made while high on caffeine or shopping with my sister-in-law.
I recently had a mission to undertake in New York City (nothing major, just auditioning for a Broadway musical) (not really – it was for a TV sitcom) (not really, just, oh never mind) and I combined it with fashion research. After all, what better place to see what’s new? The first day there, I spent the allotted time finding a parking spot. Circling the block relentlessly, aka I’m-Not-Paying-$80-For-A-Parking-Garage, I saw nothing in regard to fashion, although the most trendy accessory seems to be small dogs. I saw no pseudo-uniform outfits, and no rope belts, fyi. The next morning, I had to move the car because of street cleaning, so I figured that would give me time to more casually observe the man or woman on the street and what’s hot. The answer: NYC is hot, steamy hot, and after roaming the streets for another spot and spending $3.50 per hour to park (ugh, that’s a lot of ice cream money), I hoped that the next part of the trip – to my in-law’s on eastern Long Island – would afford a posh view of fashion trends.
The drive from New York City to Long Island was longer than usual. But many hours later, I finally found what I was looking for in terms of a really nice look to recommend: comfortable, clean lines, flattering basic navy blue – a personal favorite of mine – and surprisingly in keeping with that whole uniform-type fashion concept, complete with something shiny on it. It was just coincidence that I discovered it. But now you, too, can be ahead of the crowd in fashion circles. I mean, sometimes when you least expect it, the answer comes right to you. Almost like an announcement. Like sirens and, um, blue flashing lights. All you have to do …
… is get rear-ended on the Long Island Expressway.