Okay, continuing our series on prepping for the days to come called an Arizona summer, we need to establish a few rules. Last week, we set our baseline of maybe getting ahead of the game and even toying with such ideas as using a tanning salon so our bodies would not wind up in a burn unit after a day on the beach in San Diego, the favorite refugee camp for Arizonans escaping the heat. Today, its clothing.
With attire comes a level of self pride. There is a distinction, obviously, between the young; lets say those in their real early twenties and teens; with everyone else. As the young get older, I have observed, they discover that comfort surpasses style.
Women are so much better at this then men at the younger age, but then border line later in life with style and trying to retain that sexy/stylish/beautiful look they think they might have lost but in fact, didn’t. It is this change that brings them to the discussion table. Men, young men, on the other hand, have a tendency to embrace stuff that makes no sense at all.
Example 1-Young men wear ball caps sideways, making them look like a modern day Lenny from Mice and Men (for those whom have never heard of it—it’s a book). In order to do this, they need to consciously ignore the feeling of the hat as it pinches theirs heads because in all the dream world of the hat manufacture, they never thought anyone would wear their product contrary to the way it was suppose to be worn. I’m waiting for someone to start another look where they wear it upside down. Now that will look good! Summers in Arizona require hats. If you truly wear them sideways, people just think you’re slow and will start talking to you in a loud voice—thinking you’re deaf as well.
Example 2-Young men have also forgotten to pull up their pants. This was a style some years ago when Mark Walberg was known as Marky Mark and did underwear commercials. It was a style that two years ago began to fade. Someone forgot to tell the Arizona connection. Nothing funnier than watching a young man with a pair a shorts hanging almost to his ankles, having to hold them up with one hand as he walks down the street. Pictures should be taken of these men, stored in a photo album, and secured until that man is thirty; then on his birthday, presented to him as what he use to wear. We older men have our leisure suit photos, the young—shorts dragging on the ground. Shorts in an Arizona summer is a required dress. It kills the functionality if you wear them long enough to cut off any fresh air circulation while both hands are filled, one with your pants and the other with your bag of pork rinds.
You combine these two examples on a young man walking down the street and one can not help but think that poor fellow has to write letters to his grandmother with a crayon and will spend the rest of his natural life working an assembly line sorting colored glass at the city’s recycling facility.
Now ladies, frankly, you’re perfect with some minor suggestions. Frankly, men have really no say in what you look like when we dress like that described above. But can we make some minor suggestion(s)?
Ever since we have accepted you and your shoe choices, which is a major realization of style and its importance in your self-esteem, we are left with only two minor things.
Spandex and moo-moo’s.
There are some things you need to be aware of. Young men (those wearing the crap above) will always be surface people. Your looks are what they are attracted to. Whether you can survive after your plane crashes on a deserted island never crosses their minds. What you looked like after you crawled from the wreckage—that’s the important part to them. The application of spandex is only good for one thing-the gym.
Women should never wear spandex past the age of twenty; in a climate where the daily temperature is over 100 degrees by eight o’clock in the morning; or the woman’s body mass would test the tinsel strength of the fabric weave.
Look ladies, here’s the thing, we are all in this life for the long haul. Those in the Donner party survived because they had something to survive on. Those skinny women who were so attractive to the others were the main course come supper time because their body mass index was so low they couldn't survive the blistering cold. They had no staying power. Embrace the fact that the average woman’s size in the United States is a size 12 and move on. Those women are survivors! You don’t need to wear moo-moo’s or whatever the Hawaiian name is for those one-piece dresses large women and some men wear unless comfort is your middle name. Those can be equally unsettling.
We had a neighbor once who lived behind us. She was from Greece or some place from the Ukraine, I think. She would climb up on a ladder leaning against our back wall and call to us holding her cigarette in one of those extended filter things that Natasha used in the Rocky and Bullwinkle Show (it was a cartoon). We all laid bets she was a former Russian tower guard in the Gulag at some time and used her ‘get away from the electric fence’ voice in callilng us. She wore those moo-moo things. She passed before spandex made a showing. Just the idea of her in eight yards of black Spandex is enough to cause a seizure. Bottom line is this-dress this summer with loose fitting, breathable clothes, comfortable shoes, hats facing front, carrying a bottle of water.
We can get all wrapped up in the hype of needing to wear this or that just to say we have this or that when we really need to dress to survive. When the first skinny person became the pot roast for the Donner group, I bet, if you could of asked them, they wished they would have bulked up a little bit before they got to that pass in the dead of winter. Yep, just a little bit of me thinks they were a size 12-or even a 14.
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