"Last night while in Old Navy I was talking to Maryelizabeth and she asked me about gaucho pants. I was like, 'What in the hell is a gaucho?' I still have no idea. And then I asked her, 'Who decided that the resurrection of bermuda shorts was a good idea?' And immediately a woman wearing said shorts appeared beside me who'd clearly heard me pose the question and I could say nothing but, 'Boy, those actually look good on you.' (Which they did.)" - Eliza

I don't know about other parts of the world, but there has been a Gaucho Reign Of Terror here in Chicago for more than a year now. You can't swing a dead cat without knocking into someone wearing these things, and there are about eight girls who can pull them off. And now bermuda shorts? Gah.

These aren't things that should keep me up at night but they do. I mean, if it's bermuda shorts today, what do we allow tomorrow? Layers of scrunchie socks over tapered jeans? Debbie Gibson hats? And I know that every woman reading this who is in her late-20s to mid-30s will hear her hair folicles making plans for revolution should I even dare to go into any detail regarding the unholy marriage of Aqua Net and 3/8-barrel sized curling irons.

Seriously. Why were we all building walls on our heads? I mean, really? What were we trying to keep out, much less keep in? I'm certain no one's bangs have ever really recovered from the torture we put them through.

I am certainly not suggesting that I dictate what should be considered fashionable - there are some who feel that the oversized sunglasses that I wear, and, I might add, have been wearing for years now, are atrocious - but I'd like to think I represent the majority of women out there who have to get up every day, go to work or school, pay bills, get groceries and have drinks with lovers and friends and not a one of us has the time to consider whether formal shorts would be appropriate attire for any of these events.

We all have other things, better, more productive things, to do than exhaust our mental capacities, stretched to the brink as it is, on keeping up with trends that, in the deepest recesses of our souls, only prompt a voice that nags, "There is a very good chance that if I wear this and someone snaps a picture of me in it that I will look back on this period of my life and try and recall whether or not I was under the influence of any number of illegal substances." If our instincts are telling us that we look stupid, it's entirely possible that we do.

[Case in point. People, this was only five years ago. What you can't see is that I also was wearing WHITE CAPRIS and carried a ZEBRA-STRIPPED PURSE. And I kid you not: I really did think I looked smokin'.]

I don't think I need to remind anyone reading this about the unfortunate era that found all of us donning not only brocade vests but also shirts that included sheer polyester for the arms and torso regions. I blame Brenda Walsh for this, by the way.

The other day I was having a conversation with a friend and we discussed our mutual displeasure for people wearing casual clothes at the most inappropriate times. For almost 15 minutes we went off on a tangent on how as a society we've allowed, for example, jeans to become acceptable attire for just about anything, including church, which riles me to no end. After we finished putting our dentures back in and renewing our subscription to AARP, I realized that I've turned into An Adult, and not just an adult but the sort of person who actually cares that there is no longer a sense of occasion. So I allow for the fact that my displeasure for things such as gauchos is rooted in my having gotten older and a little more set in my ways.

Just the same, I want to know why this look is considered a good idea. It can't be the presence of gray hair on my head that's making me wonder, is it? But even if it is, isn't it a good enough reason as any? After all, I no longer do keg stands or take pulls from six-foot long bongs, either. Isn't it OK to say that having reached a certain age affords me the opportunity to not feel compelled to participate in anything I consider to be stupid?

I'm going to say "yes." Now someone go fetch me my prune juice.

Posted by Erin at 06:40 AM | filed under: Odds and ends

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