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What’s HOT. What’s NOT.

Hot hat for Fall..

Dear Diary,

I was sitting with granny Marnie (electric scooter girl) over at Killjoy Senior living..when Marnie happened to REMEMBER (shocking) that 11 year old SmartAlec was wearing the same shorts and camouflage shirt he’d worn for the last three days.. again. Oh come on. You know me better than that. Of COURSE he went against my profuse objections (pflug..hadn’t even noticed). He decided that the peanut butter stains blended in nicely with the existing army pattern..so why bother to change what worked? I can see the reasoning..but Marnie? Not so much.

“When are you going to buy the children their “back to school” clothes? It looks like they’re down to (quick up and down appraisal with gaze falling on CROCS with the band hanging off to one side) NOTHING.”

This is the part where I can either defend or agree. Either way— I am so screwed.

“That’s just what we’re going to do..”

Out of the corner of my eye I’m watching both AlienDude and SmartAlec make a face at me and mouth the words, Club Penguin (the kiddie equivalent to FaceBook) with more desperation then I have ever seen. Ga. They’re more addicted than I thought.

“Next week.”

Big sigh of relief from the peanut gallery.

MARNIE: Well that makes sense.

Huh?

“That way they can see what everyone else is wearing and look for the trends.”

Oh yeah Marnie. That’s it e-x-a-c-t-l-y. I can see my nine year old AlienDude marching up to all his little dude friends asking, “So.. who are you wearing?”

MARNIE: You know I was so glad I waited that week AFTER school started to put my wardrobe together. One year all the girls showed up with dish towels wrapped around their heads like scarves. I had to think fast. So I rushed home and found..

UUUURRRRKKKK. Stop. Right. Here.

I needed to see if I understood what Marnie was telling me. Let me get this straight. The girls were wearing TOWELS on their heads? Heh. I k-n-e-w I’d been born in the wrong century. But really.. TOWELS?

MARNIE: They weren’t exactly towels..more like flour sacks.

OK. Better.

MARNIE: Each girl would cut up a flour sack or a sugar sack into a.. you know..

NO. I. DON’T.

MARNIE: A scarf. Then some would make fringe on the edges, a hem or some kind of writing like mine— that said (pausing to recall) FISHER FLOUR MILLS inc.

Oh. Kind of like having Gucci printed all over..only better.

Just then I notice Marnie staring over my shoulder..and turn to see a guy smiling broadly at Marnie and Marnie..sucking it up. She leans over and whispers..

That’s NED. He’s MY NEIGHBOR. He’s SINGLE.

Wuddya say granny? Not sure they heard you..ACROSS the street.

Ummm. Question. How does a person go from being a real snappy dresser in their youth..to a dude wearing plaid polyester trousers pulled up to his man boobs? Then for the “tough guy on the move with his walker” look.. add a hurl green nylon cardi, thrown over a tee shirt that reads, “Don’t act sexist! My beeotch hates that.” What happens to the judgment.. people? To ALLOW this kind of flagrant disregard for appropriate mens wear dressing to be flaunted up and down the halls of KillJoy is a..a..TRAVESTY. Meh. I guess we should just be applauding the fact that Ned is actually..dressed and stop at that.

No. Age is no excuse for this sloppy, complacent dressing attitude. Ned may be feeling cocky these days knowing that the ratio is something like 52 women to two men. His competition is nothing to swell to look at either. It’s that “guy” attitude of: Why should I bother.  I’m not going anywhere that I’m going to see anyone I know..and if I do..I won’t remember that I know them.. so who cares. Now change the channel BACK to football. Belch.

“So what do you think of him? Any potential?” Marnie slyly asks me after she and Ned have exchanged pleasantries and important information (complete review of the Obituary section of this weeks newspaper.)

Well. I suppose..with some work. Ga. First thing to go would HAVE to be the tee. Doesn’t he have a nice plain wife beater tee lying around..he could wear instead?

According to Marnie (a highly accurate source..if you don’t mind the 20-35% range) Ned was a real dapper dandy. All the girls would throw themselves in his path..screaming “pick me Neddy.. I’ll wear your pin”. He was very popular and soooo handsome. And..did you know—the girls STILL fall all over him?

Sure they do. The women are TRIPPING left and right.. over his walker and SPLAT.. to his Hush Puppies slipper-ed feet.

Marnie has been complaining about her eyes lately. She’s going to pick out some new designer frames that will hold lenses with a 4-inch thickness. Maybe we’ll all go and do that and the SCHOOL shopping at the same time. So let’s talk AFTER you get your new eyeglasses Marnie.. on what’s HOT and what’s NOT for Fall. K?

My Sandwich Generation..you can never become a slacker when it comes to fashion. If your senior loses his or her fashion sense and wears an outfit that SO doesn’t work..feel free to gently dissuade your loved one from that bad fashion faux pas. Sometimes as the aging process progresses..our family may forget what decade they are living in or lose touch with reality and try to wear their heavily beaded chartreuse blouse with a wool dress jacket and velveteen slacks in the August heat. For dinner. It’s not even a black-tie affair. H-e-l-l-o? My MIL Ruth. Of course my MIL has dementia..so she can do anything she darn well pleases. Go through your seniors closet with them and put together comfortable (and washable) choices that will always look fab. You’ll be glad you did.

Hope the towel thing comes back in.

A

Copyright © 2009 My Sandwich Generation. All rights reserved.

Posted in Uncategorized 8 years, 3 months ago at 11:14 pm.

5 comments

5 Replies

  1. “So.. who are you wearing?” Too funny! I can just imagine that now…. :o)

  2. Granny . . You’ve got the best blog ever. Time you thought about compiling a book. Maybe you can get a TV show. Something like “Waiting For God” crossed with “You Bet Your Life”.

    Went through an old fiberboard trunk yesterday. Do you remember high top shoes laced with a hook? How about roller skates that clamped to your feet with a key? Many pictures. Tintypes. Great Great Grannie was 14 years old under all that white lace when married. Great Great Grandfather had a handle bar mustache. Must have been older.

    Wooden sidewalks over the mud in Minnesota. If it had a general store, bar, and two houses - it was a village. In Minnesota it was named for an Indian.

    The good old days.

    Wern’t.

    Dixon

  3. Adrienne Aug 26th 2009

    Hey Dixon! Thanks bud..I love your great devotion and unswerving enthusiasm for “Granny”. Best supporter award- par excellence.
    Now..when you say “high top’s”..I take it you don’t mean NIKE’S? Ha. They married um off early in those days. Wonder if the wife would yell at her new 14yr. old husband, “honey..clean your DRAT LEGO’S off the kitchen floor.”

    Best to you always,
    A