Alright, Alright, Alright, ALLL RIGHT !~!
I do have a question...maybe 2...maybe more.
Let's focus here. I am a guy. I am not some female who goes shop, shop, shopping.
Clothes have never meant much to me - as anyone who remembers me wearing the Mr. Roger's sweaters throughout my festive career.
I do worry a bit about looking okay in a crowd. I can still remember my first classy sportcoat. My brother Marshall, as worldly as you could get, took me shopping to buy a sports coat. My mom may have sent us out to buy a suit, but Marshall had none of that. He put me in a brown sportcoat. It had stripes - brown and black alternating. For all I know, the jacket may not have had the black stripes. It looked that way to me. He had me get a pair of matching trousers. I was a fashion plate.
The coat and pants were worn in college, and, if I remember correctly, I was married in this outfit. Things were different back then. Not everyone had to be married in a pastel colored jacket with matching tie and cumberbund and handkerchief. I did have a flower on the lapel though. I betcha this coat is hanging in one of my closets - just as my wife's wedding dress is packed away in a box waiting - just waiting. It was a very pretty dress. I like it.
Off subject: my wife was always a bit irritated by people who said the wrong things about her age. As we were nearing our wedding date, she and her mother went to a local Levelland store to find a travel dress. In those days, when the young couple left the reception, they wore travel clothes. I wore my suit and tie; she wore a nice dress. I want to say it was a blue dress. She'll correct me if I'm wrong.
The saleslady complemented the outfit saying, (I paraphrase sorta) "This is a very pretty dress. You will be able to wear it all through high school." We were pushing 22 years old!! She bought the dress anyway. I don't think we even approached having a giggle over this. Serious biz.
So, I have this question: What day -- "When" is it okay to just chuck all your clothes and just start over? I am 73 years old - pushing higher. I am still wearing clothes from 10-15 ++ years ago. Some don't fit as well. My clothes just don't wear out unless I wear them to the local buffet - I dribble when I eat (usually unwashable food stuff). The shoes I have on right now ( I use them to work in my yard ) were my shoes I wore for marching practice in 2003. I have shirts that I remember wearing back in the 90s - again not many cause I have grown somewhat.
Aside note-sidebar: if my wife reads this, she'll pull out clothes she is still wearing from 20 - 30 years ago. I will be shamed for complaining.
I look in the closet and see the same green, blue, red shirts that I have seen forever. Once in a while I get something new but, then, see above note about eating at the buffet. One summer the granddaughters were visiting. I put on a clean shirt every day. It turns out I had selected a dark blue knit shirt for 3 days in a row - each different. One of the grandgirls asked me if I ever change shirts. There ya go Herman.
Hey, you're old. Throw everything out and start over. President Bush moved into bright colored socks. You could make a statement - pinks and purples - plaids and stripes - fireman hats - c'mon, the sky's the limit.
We were walking in Walmart the other day when I spotted some female outfit that I thought would look nice on my wife. She declined. Her choice. I told her how I could make her a fashion plate if she'd just let me dress her [ one should completely ignore the fact that this conversation happened in a Walmart - the home of fashionable clothing. ] She responded that I could pick her clothes if she could pick out mine. Whoa there Trigger!! Nobody said anything about that!
I could just see my closet now. Big flowering shirts - tight fitting spandex pastel pants. No way am I gonna set her free to go down this pathway. The answer of course is to lose a lot of weight. I get tiny again; I have to have all new clothes, which, I shall add here, I will select for myself.
But, enough of this. I am going outside and hang up our flag.
I bought a new flag. The old one got caught on a board and ripped.
The new flag looks nice. USA USA USA USA
A "STONE" is a family word for a personal story or thought, not quite an essay or short story. We moved to central Texas to be near a daughter. We are down to only one wirehair dachshund - Sadie. (Goodbye in 2021 to Oscar the ball boy and Bruno the larger twin) & my wife -- penned by a retired Texas H.S. band director - just nonsense thoughts unrelated to each other or anything other than what's happening and comments.
Tuesday, October 7, 2014
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