Fashionista?

My mother owns the ugliest outfit on the planet.  Once worn with pride in the heat of the 1990s, it now suffices as her “painting suit.”  Its blue, matching blue.  Yes, it is a shirt and shorts combination.  The shorts rest on her knees but the elastic waist hugs above her hips.  The shirt, which completes the blue ensemble, is distinguished by the glaring shoulder pads.  I simply cannot bring myself to imagine a time in which wearing such an outfit would be considered acceptable, especially not fashionable.  She laughs whenever I grimace at the sight of it.  

When I was younger, I was going through a scrapbook of my dad’s early years.  I screamed at one photo of him at a piano recital.  To my horror, he donned a powder blue tuxedo, complete with ruffles and a bow tie.  My mother laughs as she describes her electric yellow jumpsuit and high waisted, oversized bell bottoms.  Surely my parents were never cool, especially sporting those outfits.  

But adults all around me laugh at the style phases I go through.  In sixth grade, gaucho pants were all the rage.  My friends had some in every color.  I begged my mom to buy me some, and laughing, she agreed.  Little did I know that these flowy pants were making a second appearance.  In eighth grade, I went through a head band phase.  Flowers, sequins, beads, and a rainbow of colors, I wanted them all.  Again, my mother laughed as I strutted around, just like an 80s girl.  And more recently, I spotted the perfect pair of sunglasses at the mall.  Who doesn’t want a fancy pair of Ray-Bans?  I had no idea why my mother was rolling her eyes while I was trying to explain what these  “new” sunglasses looked like.

Styles come and go.  Recently, the hair poofs, leggings, and electric colors of the eighties are making their big comeback.  Converse have become a must have for boys and girls alike.  In this fast pace world, style is one of the many things rapidly evolving.  Must have fashion fads can become out of style in the blink of an eye.  I laugh now at my mother’s horrific painting outfit now.  But I bet my daughter will do the exact same thing to me.  Maybe by her time, shoulder pads will be back.  Let’s hope not.