Costumes

What shall I wear today?  What says me?  Well, okay, I guess I’ll go with the usual and look like a schlub.

Oh, wait.  I have to go out today and not just to take a walk.  So that unfortunately means a bra.  I’m way past perky, but I guess I have to pretend to be somewhat respectable in my dress habits.

So, I step out of my front door, or my car, and what do people see?  Someone you totally wouldn’t take another gander at.  Someone totally forgettable.  That’s my costume.

But I see the rest of you.  I take note of the images you’re trying to present.

Take the motorcycle rider who passes by my house every so often. Helmet, thank you very much.  And then black.  Black pants, black shirt, black jacket.  He is a manly man, forceful, determined, but perhaps just perhaps unsure of his manhood?  Otherwise, why ride a motorcycle dressed like Marlon Brando in “The Wild Ones?”  This guy could just as easily have been dressed in jeans and a checkered shirt. But I do not judge.

Well, that’s a lie.  We all judge one another at first sight.

I have neighbors who, to put it mildly, need counseling if they’re going to be considered members of the human race.  They have a habit of going bike riding maybe once every two months. Saddling up so rarely, they would seem to have no need of the full bike regalia.  But, out of the garage they come, dressed like twinsies, in their cute little bike outfits, with helmets and of course gloves.  Probably to save their manicures.  What are they trying to say, except they have money to waste.

I won’t comment on other bicyclists here because I have previously made known my negative feelings about bike gangs roving the streets of our town, making life hell for pedestrians and car drivers alike. But like a picnic spoiled by yellow jackets they are everywhere.

I hesitate to mention my daughter, but she won’t read this anyway.  Oops, almost forgot that she’s in charge of my website.  My daughter presents herself via her eyes.  She wears the most incredible eye makeup, which she does very well—and I’m not just saying that because she’ll be reading this.  Every time we go someplace together, definitely to restaurants—gee, I wish she’d pay occasionally—if we have a female waitress, said server will always comment on my daughter’s eyes.

As I mentioned, I usually go about like the invisible woman, but once I thought I might try to put on eye makeup too.  But when a friend asked, “Did someone punch you?” I felt my effort had failed—somewhat.  At least it got her attention.

I’m sure men have costumes, but unless they’re in dresses, I usually don’t pay much attention to them.  It’s women I worry about.  Especially young women.  Now, I’m not for anyone wearing a chador; however, what is all this flesh spilling out from young women’s clothing.  Yes, you have nipples on uplifted breasts and your ass probably doesn’t have cellulite.  Yet.  But honestly, try to realize you’re more than a pretty face and an over-exposed body.  I know you can’t photograph your personality, but do you have to expose everything else?

Okay, I’m an old fogey.  We each have to make a statement or a non-statement in our own way.  So, I shall now sink into the background in my old-lady, elastic-waistband jeans and watch the parade pass me by.