A, B, C, and Double D
In 1986, Life was good. Ronnie Reagan was President (Oh how I miss him), Bon Jovi gave Love a Bad Name and the best movie of the year, “Pretty in Pink”, was playing at Admiral Twin. Do you remember the plot?. Andie is an outsider at her high school and lives on the wrong side of the tracks. She gets asked out by Blaine, a rich and popular guy at her school. They fall in love, much to the disapproval of their fellow classmates. Andie has a best friend named Duckie who is secretly in love with her too. Steph, the rich “mean guy” of the school has always liked Andie, but she would never go out with him. Out of jealousy, Steph threatens to make Blaine unpopular. Blaine gets scared and tells Andie he can’t take her to the Prom.
What I loved most about the movie was not that I, too, was from the wrong side of the tracks, but I loved her outfits and could relate to Andie wanting to fit in. In 1986, I bought all of my clothes at thrift stores and garage sales. I was confident that I was a fashionista. Looking back; however, I realize that I just looked like an identity-depraved teenager with hand-me-downs. The movie played recently on TBS and it was almost agonizing to watch. It brought back memories of how important my wardrobe was to me in defining who I was as a person. And guess what? Not much has changed.
Fast forward to present day work. Wardrobe is a daily topic at our office:
Q: Is that new?
A: You mean this old thing?
Q: I love that color on you.
A: Really? I thought it washed out my complexion.
Q: Where did you find that top?
A: Oh…I can’t remember….it was on sale somewhere.
Q: Have you lost weight?
A: I wish…it’s the black.
Q: How do you walk in those heals?
A: Are you kidding? Once you get up to 6 inches, they actually get more comfortable!
I still struggle with what to wear…do I dress conservatively to be taken seriously in a man’s world or do I celebrate being a woman in business…meaning, do I expose my feminine and creative sides? I’ve decided to be myself and celebrate the body and gender I’ve been given. But I confess that I have modified for particular occasions. One such occasion is borrowing money from a bank. Don’t show your cleavage!. Busting out can bust a deal.
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