What is hip? Skinny Jeans?

What is hip? Tell me Tell me, if you think you know...?

Remember that song? Tower of Power? That was the jam. Catchy beat, straight-up righteous lyrics.It was in the language of my older cousins...solid. And my favorite verse...

So ya wanna dump out yo' trick bag.
Ease on in a hip thang,
But you ain't exactly sure what is hip.
So you started to let your hair grow.
Spent big bucks on your wardrobe.
Somehow, ya know there's much more to the trip.

That's me. Big bucks on a wardrobe. Well, probably not Paris Hilton bucks but middle income, house note, car note, still paying the last remnants of my student loan but never hesitates to reward herself for her hard work on pay day, bucks. But since I've been on my shopping hiatus, I've been perpetually looking through my full-length rear view mirror and watching re-runs of my pursuit of present day "hip-ness".

I was at a "night club" recently, getting my line-dance on with my girl friends and as 40-something (maybe even 30-something's too) are want to do, I watched what the younger women were wearing. I particularly watched them for their confidence and their utter contempt and disregard for concerns over body type. But then I wondered, when did the world abandon boot cut, for booty-poppin' skinny jeans?

Is that the new "hip thang"? From every direction, there was a different interpretation of the skinny jeans, stuffed in boots from the north, scrunched against 4-1/2 inch platform heels to the south, from east they were stretched to over plus-sized derriers and from west "end" they were stretched and cuffed over peep toe suede boots. I was reminded of.....LEGGINGS! Yes, that throw back, the skin-tightening, all-purpose staple made from every material from nylon to cotton to suede. Back again in denim.

I waxed nostagic. Back to the turn of the twentieth century. There I was, some twenty some odd years ago sitting in a place, not much different from where I was, listenening to music that was not much different than what it was then, too, loud, monotonous and full of words I couldn't understand and cared not to repeat. I remembered whispering to one of my fellow ultra cool, skinny, too sophisticated for this place but without much better to do, law school girlfriends, "Girl, look at that, just cuz they make it in your size, don't mean you have to buy it". I didn't like leggings then and I like their new millineum skinny jeans cousin, even less.

Now decades later, I am not that skinny girl anymore. Suffice it to say, like many of my 40-something sisters, I am on a diet and my "badonkadonk" is losing a donk every so often. So I wondered. Would I have bought a pair of those at 40 something now? Come to think of it, though nobody really seems to look particularly unflattering in those jeans. Nowadays, women are embracing their full-figures, their flaws, their muffin-tops, their age. They're pulling on belts and making waistlines where they can and whenever they want to and dropping it like it's hot, size 6 to 16...and beyond.

I like to think I wouldn't, because I gave up shopping but more to the point, "ya know there's much more to the trip". I have plenty in my closet to make me look good. I even came across a pair of the straightest, almost (but proudly not) leggings I've ever had in my closet. Way in the back, they are grey and kinda stretchy I think, but not nylon and I wore them out with my husband a few weeks ago and some lady said I looked HOT...giggle.

I admire all of these young women celebrating their groove-thangs.They can buy into whatever trend they want. There's time enough. I know. Some trends come back and others, like the shoulder pads stay away. That's the beauty of being young. I'm just happy to still be putting the word "groove" in something.

These days, I'm okay with just watching and remembering. Fashions back in the day were great, even leggings, bell-bottoms, platforms and granny dresses... and they all came back. New fashions that age, will always come back. By the way, the big butt is the new bustle, ya know.

I made it this far and I'm having a great time here, playing in the closet of my memory and the overstuffed closet in my bedroom. Yeah, I'm hip. Still am, always was. And I know for sure, there's way more to the trip.

The Fool In Me

"I must learn to love the fool in me...the one who feels too much, talks too much, takes too many chances, wins sometimes and loses often, lacks self-control, loves and hates, hurts and gets hurt, promises and breaks promises, laughs and cries. It alone protects me against that utterly self-controlled, masterful tyrant whom I also harbor and who would rob me of human aliveness, humility and dignity but for my fool. "....Theodore I. Rubin MD

There it is, my last new outfit. I bought it during Christmas shopping. Come on, now. That's the rule...a little something for you and a little something for me. Plus it was on sale. By the way, those of you who completed the poll last month will probably not be surprised to find that sales were the main reason for clothing purchases. Unscientific though it may be with all of it's 10 participants, the poll says a lot about why I shop and probably many others. Everyone loves a sale. 

I thought and thought this month about what pearls of wisdom I would bestow on my sisters struggling with self-control. And I kept coming up short...I have extra money though, I'll say that proudly. But I was scrounging around on Facebook and I found a wonderful quote from my sister's page. It's not her quote but she loved it enough to share it. It is a quote by Dr. Theodore Rubin and it spoke to "the fool in me". I love that girl who loves a good sale, who revels in the thought of martini's and drunk shoe shopping (where I talk too loud and laugh too loud and probably tell somebody's business that shouldn't have been told), who can't wait to promise herself that "next week", she'll have no more beer, cookies, buy no more shoes. And then promptly forgives herself for her indiscretions. I've been forgiving myself for the better part of a year which is why I've been stuck at the same 20lb weight loss for 7 months....Seriously??

So, I am looking for ways to love that girl while pushing back that "masterful tyrant". How do I feed that girl's lust for something shiny and new? How do I make her laugh without shopping? How do I let her take some chances? I get creative! I let my good friend Tyra talk me into grabbing a bottle (or two) of wine and letting her and her sister, the organizer, dig through my closet to create "coordinates". You've seen it, right? I have yet to invite her over but I'm sold on the idea, once I get over my embarrasment. But that's an idea who's time just might have come. I hear there is a Reality TV cottage industry surrounding it. In the meantime, I've turned that little two piece long jacket and dress outfit in the picture into a half-dozen more.

My shiny and new comes in the form of refurbished shoes. Everything old is new again. I've come to realize that that my shoes are and have always been decidedly fabulous. Even the ones with the heels that are worn down to the nail and are living in a plastic bag with all the other nails. I was convinced that one of my legs was shorter that the other because it was always just one shoe. But really, how can and why would you walk from the parking lot into work in your good shoes? And why did it take me 5 years to figure that out?

My epiphany....parking lot shoes and work shoes, duh?! I've also discovered that shoe repair is a dying art. But cobblers do still exist. Think, when was the last time you actually sought out a "cobbler"? Would you know where one is? And how far do you have to drive to get to one? Well, I found him. My new BFF, fifteen minutes away. A sweet little elfen looking man with a beautifully thick, fantastical Italian accent, hands covered in black shoe polish and a head of curly gray hair. Remember the story of "The Cobbler and the Elves", who's craft did not make enough money for him and his wife to live on? Well, you remember, long story short, it all worked out;

They cut. Snip, snippity, snip. Snip, snippity, snip.

They sewed. In and out. In and out. In and out. In and out.

They nailed. Tap, tappity, tap. Tap, tappity, tap.

I took a chance. For new heel taps, polish, new glue for the soles, at nine dollars per pair, I laughed at my shiny new shoes. I'm rocking two "new" pairs of boots and a 4 year old pair of Ralph Lauren, black pumps. Not to mention, a host of long shirts that only boots could give their just due.

So, thats what my fool's been doing, smiling and laughing and rocking her shoes and old skirts. Running frightfully away from the "masterful tyrant". I still get to spend a few dollars for something that warms my soul and makes me talk loud. I am human and excitable and somewhat in control and I look damned good. And that's for me. Now this week, I promise to get back to the gym....I promise?

P.S. Help out a cobbler this month!

 

Tho one who went to South Africa.

Well, it's February, 2011.....I've broken Rule #3 (the one about not buying any item of clothing as a gift for anyone else). But I had a good excuse. I just got back from South Africa. Frekkin' South Africa!!! And I'll tell you what...I didn't buy one single item of new clothing to wear there. I spent two weeks wearing "old" summer clothes. I think I looked awesome. I lost a few pounds last year so I could fit in things most comfortably. I washed. AND ironed. This isn't turning out so badly after all. We stayed at a Holiday Inn for the last week, adjacent to a mall. I was....dare I say, bored with all the shops. I spent my money on every African beer I could find (we'll tackle that addiction in another blog).

So, that brings me to my most heinous crime, rule #3. Now, you must know that my mother is very proud of me, even with my tenuous bank relationship. She says, "don't be running off to Paris and London until you set your feet down home"! Never having left the continent, she is ever more proud that I did. So proud that every resident in her little old lady building was aware of my trip. I can imagine her conversations going something like this; "Hi Claudia", Oh. hi. What are you doing today? Oh nothing. Waiting for my daughter, the one who's going to South Africa, to call. Oh, okay bye." Or...."So, Claudia, where have you been? Oh, I've been out to my daughters house, the one who's going to South Africa."

As a result, I have received orders for "one of those beautiful dresses you are bringing Claudia from South Africa".  Well, how do you refuse? So, I am back, loaded down with wine (South Africa has the most wonderful wineries), key chains, pictures and several of those beautiful dresses from South Africa. Shall I be penalized for that or shouldn't there be a special dispensation for once in a lifetime gifts for little old ladies?

I am standing in front of the Oprah Winfrey school in Henley, South Africa, just outside of Johannesburg. Here is where I proudly display an outfit that is at least three years old. The girls inside wear uniforms. That's it! Everyday, even when they visit home. They have nothing. Most of them come from the townships where poverty is an understatement. Who am I to worry about a new outfit? I'm getting a new outlook!

Why I Will Not Shop For One Year

I have two addictions; beer and shopping. A 6pk of my favorite beer cost me an extra $37.00 in overdraft fees once. That I could live with because that is rare. It's the clothes that have brought me to my bottom. When you think of being overdrawn, you think of those people who live paycheck to paycheck with menial jobs and minimal resources and high debt. I am neither or those. I am educated and make a sizeable income and minimal debt. I have several accounts with monies squirreled away and allocated according to the latest self-help, get rich guru's instruction book in my arsenal of money management tools. So why can't I keep my "mad money" account solvent?

Never-the-less, for the week of this last Christmas I found myself moving and shaking, transferring funds from account to account, analyzing credits and debits online with the skill of a Wall Street banker. Well, obviously not. It was to no avail. Why didn't I know that Christmas was coming? Where did that money go? I'm just so tired of wondering? That's just dumb because I know where it is. It's in my closet. The closet from which my husband has divorced me almost ten years ago.

I'm ashamed to admit that there are many items in my closet that I've worn once, once. You might spot one of them in the pile... on the floor. And many more items that I've never worn at all. My closet is a monument to laziness and excess. There are designer handbags, among them, Kate Spade, Coach and Prada, scarves, ugly Christmas sweaters, bridesmaids dresses, New Years Eve and Valentines Day gowns (in varying sizes), robes, sweatshirts, jeans (in varying sizes), sexy club-hopping outfits (also in varying sizes) and at last count, well over 150 pairs of shoes, boots and sandals. And while it all just sits there on/off hangers, on the floor, hanging over shelves and out of hampers, it is starting to have a effect on both my self-esteem and my wallet. I wonder what I'd save in my "mad money" account if I stopped.

With all due respect to my fairer skinned shop (beer) aholics, no proud, educated, self-respecting, African-American sista' in this day and in this economy, should be demanding that a bank teller explain the insane mathematics of overdraft fees, while also exercising the futility of begging her to take at least something off. We are well beyond that. I am unapologetic about that and my comments end there. Black, white blue, green or purple, I am 50 and enough is enough.

Here are my 5 reasons for not shopping this year 
1) Grow up and just stop it. Haven't you learned how to coordinate an outfit yet?
2) Save some money. Everything your friend has shouldn't be yours too.
3) Does shopping really mean shopping? Or does it mean drinks and appetizers after work which leads to drunk shopping, which in my opinion is worse than drunk dialing? There are many other forms of entertainment, and dare I say, emotional fulfillment.
4) There really is no "new" or "in" fashion. There is only what is neat, professional and appropriate for the occasion. Think, have those boots and jeans you've worn for the last 3 years been deemed passe'...for anything? At anytime?
5) I KNOW, this year will fly by and the money will be there or at least much better spent. And I will be stronger for it.

The Rules
1) I can accept gifts of clothing for legitimate occasions only. No gift cards.
2) I can shop for hosiery and undergarments (including "foundation" garments).
3) I cannot purchase an item of clothing for anyone else as a gift or gratuity.
4) Clothing shall include all accessories, shoes and handbags (with the exception of sunglasses or luggage)
5) I may sew my own clothing items (like that will ever happen).

We shall see......... Wish me luck!;