FASHION OCD

When I'm off Island I shop. It's seems to me that's the only reason to go off Island. I go to malls. I go to Kappy's. I go to CVS and The Christmas Tree Shop. I shop till I drop. Unfortunately I shop like a kid at the beach, picking up pretty stones and shells. Whatever catches my eye. Usually when I get home I have lots of stuff but nothing matches--which is a real problem for me as you will see.

FASHION OCD

I have Fashion Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. Those of you who were reared any time after the fifties or early sixties will not understand this. In my youth there were very specific fashion rules. My mother had me convinced that I could be given a citation if I wore white before Memorial Day or after Labor Day. White was for summer only. No such thing as winter white when I was a kid. And even in the summer people said rude things about men who wore white loafers. These fashion rules were repealed during the late sixties and seventies (as anyone who went to Woodstock or Studio 54 can tell you). I still feel uncomfortable, however, when I break one.
I recently started therapy for this and my first attempt at a cure was to buy a purse that would be impossible to match to a pair of shoes. Matching bags and shoes has been a compulsion of mine since I started carrying a bag. Black with black, brown with brown, I have an entire closet that is dedicated to footwear and their matching bags. When I was young and had lots of time, changing bags daily wasn’t much of a problem. Now that I’m retired I find it tiresome. My friends tell me it’s been years since this was necessary, but a compulsion is a compulsion. My new bag looks like a giraffe. It would be impossible to match it exactly but I still try to maintain a color scheme so my wardrobe has become predominately brown and gold.
Another rule was the prohibition of wearing plaid and stripes together. Or stripes and polka dots. This would be instant fashion suicide. I’ve never figured out why they call them polka dots either. Are you supposed to dance when you wear them? Even certain color combinations were taboo. Wearing blue and brown together still makes me cringe, though I do it to match a certain Vera Bradley bag that I purchased on sale last year. It was an impulse purchase and a huge mistake. I have a panic attack every time I look at it.
The current fashion rule regarding prints is--and I read this today in In Style magazine--do not wear prints of more than two colors together. So, you can wear a green and blue plaid blouse, black and white striped pants, and an orange and purple polka dot jacket. You’ll look like you were in a paint factory explosion but technically you will be following the rules.
I remember going to church when I was a kid. Getting dressed took as long as the sermon. I wore a hat, gloves, and patent leather shoes. In the winter the hat matched the coat. I went to a church wedding in the early 70’s. The women guests were in jeans and had curlers in their hair, covered with scarves, in preparation for the reception. So much for respecting God’s temple.
The 70’s really demolished most of the rules regarding dress. This was the decade that produced leisure suits with lapels big enough to repair an eagle’s broken wing and platform shoes that made everyone look like they’d joined the circus. Psychedelic was the word and the fashion designers were going out of their way to be outrageous. You can imagine my distress. I thought the styles were hideous. Then as if figuring out plaid, stripes, and polka dots wasn’t enough, someone invented paisley. I had a nervous breakdown and spent the next six months locked in my closet, naked!
When the designers started putting their name on everything, my mother became outraged. Prone to cliches she said it would be a cold day in hell before she’d be a free walking advertisement for some rich company and pay through the nose for the privilege. Her exception, since her name was Lee, was, of course, Lee jeans or tee shirts or any other item that had Lee emblazoned across it’s chest or butt. She explained this by saying she was only advertising herself. This was good for her because Lee was the only designer brand she could afford.
Moving to Martha’s Vineyard has gone a long way to help cure my Fashion OCD. No one wears dresses or high heels. If your jeans are clean you are welcome in any establishment you pass by. Shorts and flip flops are suitable year round. There are pretty much two modes of dress here. Summer visitor, which is preppy with lots of Lilly Pulitzer or year rounder which means that most everything in your wardrobe was purchased at an end of season sale or at the thrift shop. And the people in West Tisbury, of course, shop at the Dumptique.
I think I’m starting to get better. Yesterday I wore a pair of black flip flops with my giraffe bag.