Lori Borgman
I am too practical to ever be cutting-edge fashionable.
When I saw a picture of Kylie Kardashian wearing a simple black dress with an enormous life-size faux taxidermy lion’s head attached, my first thought was: Will she be able to pull up to the table when food is served?
How can she keep her balance?
Will she be able to navigate that monstrosity in a restroom stall?
I’m so mundane, I check the weather app before deciding what to wear. My go-to fashion adviser is the local meteorologist.
I’m so void of imagination that never once have I surveyed the possibilities in my closet and thought, “I wonder how an artist’s rendition of an animal head would look strapped to that?”
The faux taxidermy accessory may be a trend that falls under the heading of “fashion regrets.” Far be it from me to cast the first shoulder pad; I live with my own fashion regrets.
Granny dresses with long skirts and big sleeves were popular when I was in high school. I felt wonderfully fashionable swooshing down the hall between history and math. I looked like one of the Ingalls girls from “Little House on the Prairie.”
In my early motherhood years, big lace collars on dresses were the trend. They were feminine and fancy. I tried to talk my mother into getting one. She refused, saying it would look like she rammed her head through a tablecloth. I immediately knew why I always felt like eating off the china when I wore that dress.
Mom jeans were one of the few fashion trends I was in step with. I just heard they went out of style some time ago.
Big hair had huge staying power. That’s the only trend I was ever on top of. Big hair is past, present and future, as my hair correlates with the humidity. Again, with the meteorologist my fashion adviser.
Jane Fonda workout videos popularized leg warmers. Leg warmers were like long evening gloves without the part for your fingers, only you wore them on your legs.
Even now, I ask myself, why? What were we thinking?
Were we thinking?
Today I read that the big blazer is the latest rage; everybody who is somebody is going to be swimming in one. True to its name, the big blazer is huge, with huge, oversized sleeves, and a trapeze cut so generous it could house you and three friends.
If I wore one of the big blazers, one of the grands would ask if I was playing dress-up. Someone else would ask if I wasn’t too old to go trick-or-treating, and I would ask myself if I seriously thought I could get a seatbelt around all the fabric.
One designer was quoted telling women, “… embrace the over-size fit and it will suit you.”
That’s exactly what I’m worried about.
Lori Borgman is a columnist, author and speaker. Send comments to [email protected].
