Loose Ends
Fashion aside...
Susan Nienow

Yesterday, just after dawn when the cat walked across my face, I woke up with a sense of dread, knowing I needed to shop for a few pieces to fill in my wardrobe. Shopping is fun unless I am looking for something specific. Then it leaves fun behind and moves into the work category.

What a difference a season makes - now, long is not so long and short is longer, blue is seafoam and forget trying to find anything to wear in navy. Last year I finally found a t-shirt I liked, and this year, the store has dropped that brand.

I started with my dark brown pants. They have a long history. They're stretch polyester and never fade, bag at the knees or wear out. That's probably why manufacturers don't make those polyester clothes any more. I prefer to call them timeless, but it is probably more accurate to say they lack style and recall the '70s.

They spent a year in the storage closet, and twice I have put the pants in the "give to a good cause" pile only to pull them out later, guilt-ridden, thinking, "There's still a lot of wear in these."

So, I put them back in the closet, vowing to cut a hole in them before I have to go through this again. This season, I brought up the subject to my other half. "You know those brown pants? I think I will give them away. They are really out of date."

"Then get rid of them," my other half said.

"Easy for you to say. I can't seem to part with perfect pants."

"I thought you said they are dated."

"Anything that doesn't need ironing and fits no matter what size I am is perfect," I retorted.

Having already pushed the limit on the clothes/fashion/decisions topics with my other half, I left the house with a mission

I started with the hunt for a new shirt. I could really empathize with Goldilocks: "This shirt is too sheer. This shirt is too short. This shirt is - well, just too..."

I wanted coral. Coral was spring, the clerk said. Fall is mocha latte and biscotti. But coral goes with pants I already have. The shirt will have to wait for next spring when pink will be in and coral out.

I head for the shoes. I am looking for shoes with a toe big enough for my five toes, a back and a short heel bigger than a nail head. I ask the clerk to point me in the right direction.

"The sensible shoes are over there."

Nothing stylish goes with "sensible" shoes. The bargaining begins. I'll give on the heels if there is room for my toes. Apparently that is not enough of a compromise unless I want lime green or white. Scratch shoes.

On to the purses. They always fit and come in every color. I make another deal with my financial conscience - keep the brown pants and get three purses.