It’s not what you think.
About. Me. Myself, and I.
This may surprise you.
Global fashion events occurred and were attended well before many of you reading this piece of journalistic excellence were even born. A glimmer in your Mother and Father’s eyes.
Perhaps, and if it serves you well, a little more about myself. I am a bonafide server. To and of our fellow men. Please consider my fashionista tithes, talents, and advice as more than just a new, or used, or hand me downs soliloquy. Consider it a history lesson, a life lesson. I am more than happy to tell! More than happy to share with you and ya’ll!
I am dating myself again, and my apologies, there are no pictures to share. Please use your imaginations.
The Good News—the Frugalist of News—hang on to your clothes as long as prudent, because sooner or later they will come back in style!! I know this from personal, experience as a personal shopper.
The Bad News—Some of us have grown. In different ways, both good and bad. Some predicted, expected🙃. Planned, unplanned.
Remember this global fashion event was well over (Hint: dating myself again) Well over fifty, yes, 50—5 and an 0 years ago.
Please sit back, relax, close your eyes and picture this global fashion event as the pages, neural images and clothes unfold.
This wonderful historical time occurred in the corner of a grocery store. A grocery store called, “The Eagle”. In the global center of the fashion world, the US—called The Midwest! No joke! At the time, (pre global-warming consternation) This locale fortunately welcomed the four seasons. No, not the musical group, or the hotel. The bonafide, God-created meteorological seasons.
Meterologically as well as historically this is indeed important to note. Just in case you may be unaware because of the constant drone and see/saw of the evolution of global warming, the four seasons are: winter, spring, summer and fall also called autumn. Wear and tear to get there from here figures into the figure.
Sit back, relax and enjoy.
The story begins with a day. Usually a Saturday. The daily chore of grocery shopping for a family of 7-8-9 (canine members included) with my Father. As a contributing family member of the physical labor I felt most proud to help my Father. While accompanying my Father on the weekly family food shopping trips, I would follow my Father up and down the aisles, pushing the cart, carry the list, the shopping list. If the item to be purchased was too high or low, I would step in. Grab it. And on we marched.
Fairly routine. A routine experience. Measuring produce, reading a list, acknowledging neighbors, up and down, down and up the aisles. We would laugh at certain items packaging. Just laugh. It was awesome.
As the end of the trip was nearing, but prior to the check out task, I would look up at my Father and ask permission to run over to the corner of the store to check out the latest fashion items. To me, it was fantastic. As a no-nonsense personal shopper, I never had to “shoo around”look too long—“I knew it when I saw it”. In my opinion, the items were spectacularly chosen by the head fashion honcho of the store. Timely, fashionable, good quality.
Making mental notes, of the cost, the timing (seasonal items only stayed on the racks so long) and how much I needed to save, and whether it would me “worth” the wait, I dashed back to help my Father.
Time to unload the cart, and “bag” up the family items. Especially fun was loading up our family dog’s big ole’ bag of food. Our beloved family dog would be so incredibly excited to see it, smell it and eventually scarf it when it was his meal time! What a Good Dog!
I am not sure what excited me more—visiting the Eagle global fashion corner or taking our dog’s big ole’ bag of food to him. Either way. Good times.
In the back of my mind, my fashion sense was mentally visualizing and debating the latest, limited edition. Sometimes the jeans had “jewels” on them, depending on what was in style. Flared, for the “in style” clog shoes, or wedges we were to clunk around in at the time. Sometimes “straight-legged” for “flats”—no, not that, for the shoes with no heels. Or tennis-like shoes of various shades.
The shirts were a little more stressful to choose. Being only a weekend fashionista—weekly Monday thru Friday dress was a uniform dress code—getting the right choice was a little more “important”. Relatively-speaking in the mind of a pre-teen, teen, youth. There was not so much a thought of the clothing item, “making or breaking” me cost-wise, “looks-wise”, but the money saved, spend consideration and eventually wearing was a thought process. The worth. The value of values at play. A great “find”.
And all this excitement in the corner of The Eagle grocery store. Brilliant concept, before its time if you ask me. It was fantastic. The time with my father was undeniably fun. My self, and my inner fashion self learning and growing. A life lesson.
To me, it was akin to a shopping day on Saks Fifth Avenue!
When we got home, I ran with the big ole’ bag of our family dog’s food to show him, and say, hey, we got it. He returned the thanks with a shaking, wagged tail, barked as if to say, “thanks”. I love my human family-secrets, chaos, and all.
Mid-week would arrive and decision time—perhaps, there may have been an upcoming church event, a family party, or friend’s party to wear the chosen item. Talk about pressure—not really—just adding for dramatic effect. (Journalistic excellence.)
Would be time to hop on my bike, cash and change in hand and head for my Saks-Eagle-Fifth-Avenue. Marched straight back to the corner, grabbed my pondered item, sometimes I tried it on, sometimes not, depended on the item. Would not let distractions get in my way. Decision earned, Decision made. No returns, No exchanges.
Carried my decision with me to the check out. Paid the bill. Paid the cost. Money spent. Even if my purchase was not the latest, limited edition. It did not matter to me. The process was more important, what mattered. While spending time with my Father, doing family chores, it did not matter if the item was the most beautiful thing in the world.
The time spent with my Father was the time that mattered. His life lessons. What made me feel beautiful. He taught me that it is not so much when you look good you feel good. He taught me that,
When you feel good you look good.
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