Red boots, purple sequins
"Muuh-ther, you're not going to let her wear that are you?"
As a child my assemblage of outfits were, I guess you could say, a little eclectic. This was a constant source of frustration, and probably embarrassment, to my older sister, who made it a point to be the small-town icon of fashion perfection, i.e. everything she had matched and meshed perfectly. Lacoste was her signature brand.
One of my particular favorites, however, was a deep purple sequined dance leotard with the matching tulle skirt, which was long and flowing - I liked to flap the bottom and let the fabric billow up around me. To me, this outfit was multifunctional, and I found nothing wrong with choosing to wear it to a family camping retreat.
Then, there were the red boots. God, I LOVED those red boots. I wore them with everything - even the purple ballerina outfit. The last time I was home I noticed an old snapshot dangling precariously from the side of the refrigerator. It was me, holding a puppy, sporting some bright pink pants with white stripes down the side and the red boots. And, to top it off, the red boots were actually rain boots, but that didn't matter to me.
One thing that didn't help my sister's cause was the fact that because my dad owned a clothing store I was allowed to pick out and purchase my own outfits. Often times without parental input.
Sometimes my sister was mortified. One particular occasion was school picture day in 3rd grade. I didn't tell my mom and I chose my own ensemble, which included a pink sweater with fish "bubbles" that looked like cotton balls randomly stuck to the fabric.
My mom says that people made comments to her all the time about my peculiar taste in clothing. But she brushed them off claiming that she didn't want to stifle my creativity. Right.
I'm not sure if the lack of wardrobe guidance as a child was such a good idea. Because now, I'm not so much creative of my choices as I am unsure of what constitutes a "cute" outfit or something just extremely bizarre.
As a child my assemblage of outfits were, I guess you could say, a little eclectic. This was a constant source of frustration, and probably embarrassment, to my older sister, who made it a point to be the small-town icon of fashion perfection, i.e. everything she had matched and meshed perfectly. Lacoste was her signature brand.
One of my particular favorites, however, was a deep purple sequined dance leotard with the matching tulle skirt, which was long and flowing - I liked to flap the bottom and let the fabric billow up around me. To me, this outfit was multifunctional, and I found nothing wrong with choosing to wear it to a family camping retreat.
Then, there were the red boots. God, I LOVED those red boots. I wore them with everything - even the purple ballerina outfit. The last time I was home I noticed an old snapshot dangling precariously from the side of the refrigerator. It was me, holding a puppy, sporting some bright pink pants with white stripes down the side and the red boots. And, to top it off, the red boots were actually rain boots, but that didn't matter to me.
One thing that didn't help my sister's cause was the fact that because my dad owned a clothing store I was allowed to pick out and purchase my own outfits. Often times without parental input.
Sometimes my sister was mortified. One particular occasion was school picture day in 3rd grade. I didn't tell my mom and I chose my own ensemble, which included a pink sweater with fish "bubbles" that looked like cotton balls randomly stuck to the fabric.
My mom says that people made comments to her all the time about my peculiar taste in clothing. But she brushed them off claiming that she didn't want to stifle my creativity. Right.
I'm not sure if the lack of wardrobe guidance as a child was such a good idea. Because now, I'm not so much creative of my choices as I am unsure of what constitutes a "cute" outfit or something just extremely bizarre.
posted by lauren at 4:08 PM
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