A few weeks ago while at our weekly writers’ club meeting we were politely informed if we wanted to continue to use the conference room in the office complex we needed to change our dress code. The executives felt it was inappropriate to use their conference room in jeans or shorts. It was a hot day in Florida and I, myself, was wearing faded denim shorts and a summer blouse.
Not sure why but this infuriated me. Here I was 67 years old and some young executive trying to impress his executive was telling me how to dress for a meeting that gets together after hours. We meet five-thirty to seven-thirty in the evening to be precise.
This brought back memories of the ‘50s. It was the Poodle Shirts and Saddle Shoes time in my life. Girls always had to wear dresses or skirts even if it was below 30 degrees outside. We rebelled. Well we tried. We wore big bows in our hair and carried a doll to show that we were being treated as babies. On many days we wore black blouses and black skirts in mourning. It was the Elvis Presley time and American Bandstand time of my life. Although it didn’t work then, over time women were okay to wear pants and soon the trend went on to jeans.
Another wonderful memory for me is when I was in my forties. I was wearing slacks by this time but had never own a pair of jeans. My good friends invited me to my first concert. Linda Ronstadt was the county singer, and somewhat popular at the time. I decided to buy my first pair of jeans. Lee Jeans was the brand. I was hooked. The concert was great and so were the Lee Jeans. Soon the only time I wore slacks was to work or church. All other times it was and still is jeans. The only time I am out of jeans is during the summer months and even then my shorts are usually made of denim.
Here I was a week later from the announcement and trying to decide what to wear. I ended up with pinkest coral khakis and a t-shirt that says, “I’m Retired and This is as Dressed Up as I Get.” Still a little rebellious but no one complained and I hope the executives got a laugh out of it.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
1 comment:
I read it to Mario and he got a kick out of it. He's always wanted to protest in front of city hall and say, "I'm an older, straight, white American who pays his own bills. I want special treatment because I'm in the minority. Continued success.
Post a Comment