When we last left off from yesterday’s post (you may want to read that first – otherwise this might not make any sense), my early twenty-something friends and I were staring at older thirty-something women and thinking that we must have fallen into a time warp.
In the Fall of 1996 I was two years out of college and fully committed to my short skirts (skorts even!) and Jennifer Aniston shag.
On this particular night, we were helping my roommate with some envelope stuffing for the non-profit she directed. The non-profit was established by Georgetown University students, so there were a number of older alumni on the board of directors.
The four of us were sitting at a table looking like a low budget version of the cast of Friends. How full of ourselves we were – and how confident in our style. Although we had varying poor body image obsessions, we managed to mask them with well thought out wardrobe choices. And as any self respecting insecure young women should be, we were very aware of the appearance of others.
It was obvious when we arrived that we were the youngest ones there, and we joked about how we were banished to the “kids table” in the front room while the older group that had known each other for over a decade gathered around a larger table in the back room. Our position afforded us a perfect view of everyone as they entered the house. And what a parade of 1980-ugly that was! (That last line was from the point of view of an obnoxious 24 year old fashion snob of course.)
When each woman walked by, our “Rachels” would swish in unison as we tracked their progress to the back of the room. Every one of them sported trends that harkened back to Ally Sheedy’s St. Elmo’s Fire wardrobe of boxy blazers and drop waist floral dresses. And horror of horrors, most matched the color of their heels to their outfit! We could barely contain our giggles and finger pointing. Of course I’ve exaggerated a bit for effect…we didn’t ALL have that particular Rachel-inspired hairstyle. My friend Maureen preferred a shorter “Monica.”
I started to list some of the comments I remembered us making, but deleted them since they made us sound far meaner than we actually were. We felt comfortable in our cattiness among friends, but wouldn’t have wanted anyone else to hear us (such is the way with everyday derision…). Let’s just say that our conversation included the following words and labels: “feathered,” “Laura Ashley,” “yoke,” “Forenza,” “pumps,” “electric blue,” “fire engine red.”
After a fair amount of laughing down memory lane, Maureen astutely observed that we would be next. She said, “ten years from now, younger girls will be sitting here laughing at us with our flip hairstyles and clunky shoes.” While this honest image made us laugh louder than any of the snide quips did, it also made me think. It actually made me a little uncomfortable – and this had nothing to do with the body suit I was wearing. I just didn’t like the idea of being outdated.
And I still don’t. But starting with that minor observation from a friend, I had to recognize the fact that I would someday show traces of my own early style influences. And I would likely get stuck in my own fashion time warps. I would get busy with life and not notice that hair didn’t curl up anymore. I would continue to clomp around in my sturdy heeled pilgrim shoes while other women tippity tapped on pointier toes. While I couldn’t predict the future trends that would sweep past the stake I had so firmly driven into my claim for a 1996 identity, I began to feel the noose I had been fashioning for myself.
But knowledge is power right? And that evening, my friend inadvertently gave me some sage advice. You don’t really have to get stuck in a particular style era. And if you do, you can always pull yourself out of it. The first step is to open your eyes and realize that there is a lot of great style out there and not all of it conforms to what celebrities of the hour are wearing on screen. It’s perfectly fine to find a look that works for you – the trick is to make it translate into the current styles. This is where those 80s ladies went wrong. They didn’t update the styles that they liked – they just kept wearing the old version.
I’ve always preferred to learn from the mistakes of others. Seriously – let them do the dirty work. And I am happy to report that I am not in fact stuck in 1996. I’d say that I’m AT LEAST holding strong at a respectable 2006. So I’d like to thank those women who never gave up on their trusty green eyeliner or their tried and true Mia flats. And I’d also like to acknowledge any 80s die hards who stuck it out for another decade. If this is you – give yourself a pat on the back. Congratulations girls – the fickle fashion world is cyclical and you are now back in style!
