Bless the Dress

When I was eighteen, my mother went ballistic at me for going braless on a date. Hey, it was the early 70s and that was the style for hippie-wannabes like me. Mom and I didn’t have too many fights. I mostly behaved until about 17, and then usually snuck my bad behavior out of the house without discovery. But this time Mom caught me and got Dad involved. They said some things parents shouldn’t say to their daughter, and I’m sure I said things a daughter shouldn’t say to her parents. Not a night we talk about when we reminisce around the dinner table.

And I am over it.

But I was reminded of the event Sunday as a pretty, young girl, maybe 15-16 years old, sat in the church pew ahead of me. She had a knockout figure—a trifle full for today’s bone-thin standards, filling out her Jessica Rabbit sheath dress and then some. The dress was skimpy on both ends—strapless and mid-thigh, with ruching (a kind of gathering/tucking) at the hips, in case your eyes needed help noticing that part. I assume the conservatively-dressed woman sitting beside her was her mother. As I told my Facebook friends, I didn’t know who to slap first.

I’m not a fan of strapless or even spaghetti straps in church. I think many males have trouble following a sermon if the female in front of them is sticking her thumbs in the bodice of her dress to yank it up over her boobs again and again. Or if lingerie straps are peeking out. Or missing. Actually, I have a whole list of church no-nos: see-through clothes, mini skirts, skimpy shorts, tight tops. Also, if your full skirt has a tendency to get stuck where the sun don’t shine, wear a slip! The people behind your behind don’t want that image stuck in their heads as they rise up to sing to God.

I know short, tight and sexy is the style, but just like back in the early 70s, just because it’s in style doesn’t mean your parents should let you wear it. Especially to church.

So, gentle readers, tell me how you feel. And if my parents somehow see this, I swear I don’t go braless in public anymore.

Pajama Pants in Public

Yesterday at Chick-fil-A I saw a young man dressed in a bathrobe, his bare knees and hairy legs sticking out. He didn’t appear sick or weak, so I don’t know why he wore a bathrobe to a restaurant. To shock people? Laziness?

My response? I laughed, thought, “He’s an idiot,” and went on with my lunch.

I know people get freaked out about how others dress in public. The pajama-pants in public craze is one I don’t understand, but I’m not going to lose my joy over someone else’s low standards. Bathrobe-boy didn’t spoil my chicken nugget experience. I just didn’t care.

Okay, I must admit, I do have some standards. I’ve never liked underwear-exposing styles. Or young women dressed like hookers. Or bare shoulders in church. But pajamas are just—silly. If people are brave or crazy or lazy enough to dress like that, that’s their dignity dragging its ragged hem along the floor. Why should it ruin my day?

A male friend of mine hated those long banana clips women used (and still may) to clip their hair into a fluffy, cascading tail. He fretted and stewed and complained that it showed their total lack of care about their looks. The clips didn’t bother me—I thought they were kind of cute. But I hated those short, curly perms briefly popular in the 80s, a wash-and-go style that I thought made a woman look like she’d simply given up on a hairdo and now was going for something that stayed out of her eyes. I used to have a boss who hated sandals and open-toed shoes, and wanted to ban them from the very-casual workplace so he wouldn’t have to see toes.

You never know what’s going to bother people.

So, what about you? What styles bug you? If you had the power to eliminate a style/look/hairdo from the world, what would you choose?

As for me, sandal season officially began yesterday. You toe-haters out there stand warned.