poured out before bed
Fashion and appearances in general have been on my mind the last few months – peripherally, of course – as I slog through residency interviews.
To be fair, I’m going into a field dominated by males, but a rather large part of the interview impression is how one dresses, one’s mannerisms, expressions. My interview attire is very much an expression of myself: a fitted gray tweed suit-coat with charcoal gray pants and low heels in a miniaturized version of the suit-coat tweed, a starched, uncollared white button up shirt with a bit of vertical ruching about the front, a long string of black pearls with simple, black pearl earrings, and my wavy hair in a clean, no frills or fly-aways or bangs updo at the back. I visualized the look long before I found clothes of a kind of what I had visualized, and I certainly do stand out in interview groups composed of broad shouldered young men in black and black pin-stripe suits, with a fine smattering of other young women (read: usually just one or perhaps two other gals) in black or dark gray skirt suits (sometimes far too short) with their long hair straightened and down about their faces.
I like that I can stand out by looking classic and, by my estimation, classy.
Mr. Whine and I stole a dinner in together recently, and had an interesting discussion re: my interview attire.
“You dress like a classy old woman,” Mr. Whine said.
“WHAT?!” I said.
Mr. Whine gulped a bit, took a sip of water, and tried again.
“You know the little old ladies I see that I like best?” he said. Remember, Mr. Whine is in a combined geriatrics residency-fellowship.
“You mean the little tarts that blow you kisses?” I said.
“Well, them, and the sweet little ones.”
“The one thing they have in common is that they all dress classily. Is that a word, classily? Well, in any case, they come to me in some sort of mix of victorian and mid-century modern – something classic and simple. Well thought out, you know. They’ve got themselves and their lives together, and the byproduct is a kind of dignity that comes out in their dress,” Mr. Whine smiled.
I smiled back at him. He would be sleeping next to me tonight, the couch cold and bare.
As if they’d heard our somewhat-dangerous-for-Mr.-Whine conversation, the gods of journalism and science recently published two online articles on fashion and aging.
The first, Aging Stylishly, Online and in the Streets, by Emanuella Grinberg over at CNN, chronicles those classy dames who have taken their advancing age not as an excuse to settle into “grandma clothing,” but as a challenge to experiment and express themselves. It’s delightful!
As we cannot leave the men out, and because of my father-figure crush on Robert Krulwich, I give you, No Thank You: The Mysterious Transformation of 50-Year-Olds, a piece which discloses the research findings of the financial analyst/writer Harry Dent concerning the purchasing patterns of persons of all ages. I, for one, would like to buck the curve, creating a low and steady line, buying only what I need, only those necessary pieces, pieces which will be classic, versatile, sturdy, and well taken care of, until they need replacing or updating years later.
Did you hear that, Mr. Whine?