Where fashion is concerned, I’m a bit bewildered.
I’d love to up my game and get into the style groove for fall, but frankly, I have no idea what that looks like. (Heck, I don’t even know if “groove” is still a word.)
“I could use some new pants for work,” I informed the husband. “I wonder what’s trending this autumn.”
The husband shrugged his shoulders. Where style is concerned, he’s not so much bewildered as disinterested. He’s not keen to be on trend, but he is keen to rock clothes that celebrate his favourite football team. And by that, I mean in everything from socks to sweats to pyjamas.
I get the sense that it’s still de rigueur to wear jeans that look like they’ve been through the shredder, but I’m not a ripped-denims kind of gal, and even if I was, I don’t think they’d be suitable for work.
I also get the sense that it may be fashionable these days to don trousers — does anyone call them trousers anymore? — that are a tad shorter than those of yesteryear.
“Look at that woman’s pants,” I whispered to the husband the other day when we were walking through the mall. “She’s clearly expecting a flood.”
“Silly,” he said. “That’s what’s in style.”
“How would you know?” I asked.
Where jeans are concerned, I’m similarly baffled. These days, you can choose between skinny jeans and slim jeans, which confuses me, given that they sound pretty much the same. And straight leg jeans? No idea what we’re talking about there, since I’ve always been under the impression that most people have straight legs. (Unless, of course, there are also bow-legged jeans on offer?)
A new sweater and blouse? I’d like one of each, please, in blue and white respectively, but I have no idea what’s styling in tops. (Are turtlenecks still a thing? And if so, are they still called turtlenecks? Sounds pretty quaint to me.)
I guess I’ll figure out the work garb and wear something that looks half decent, but when it comes to household duds, it’s another story completely.
At this time of year — in the fall and the chilly months beyond — I tend to be found, more often than not, wrapped in a fleecy throw that conceals my clothing. I have perhaps two dozen cozy blankets. In fact, they outnumber my jeans and dated sweaters combined.
So my style here at home? It’s likely quite poor. But no one would know that at all.
