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Cloudy early with some clearing expected late. A stray shower or thunderstorm is possible. Low 61F. Winds light and variable..

Cloudy early with some clearing expected late. A stray shower or thunderstorm is possible. Low 61F. Winds light and variable.

My first fashion moment came at Kmart when I was shopping for fifth-grade school clothes in South Bend, Indiana. While my mother was busy finding clothes with my younger sisters, I went through the racks on my own.

My mom was big on choosing a color scheme when clothes shopping. Her goal was creating the most outfits possible. Perhaps my mom was the creator of capsule clothes collections.

For my color scheme, I presented to my mom a crisp white, long-sleeved, collared, button-down blouse; a red-and-white, checkered, collared, button-down blouse with rolled sleeves; a grey, v-neck, straight wool jumper; and a black, scoop-neck, flared, corduroy jumper. The grey-and-black jumpers hung by themselves on a rack. White, black, grey and red are color combinations I still love today.

My mom was less than enthusiastic as in “Black? Grey? Funeral colors! At your age, you cannot wear black to school!” I stood firm, stating I already owned white-and-red sweater sets and would just need grey-and-black sweater sets along with grey-and-black skirts, yielding endless outfits.

My mom was bowled over by my fashion determination. She showed her friends my clothes choices, chuckling that I refused to budge from wearing black in fifth grade. Today, you can find baby clothes in black!

Remember sweater sets — a cardigan over a short-sleeve sweater in the same color? Bringing back genuine classic sweater sets — not a sweater bra with a cardigan — makes more sense than bringing back bell-bottom jeans even if you rename them flared jeans or boot-cut jeans.

Granted the flare is different in bell-bottoms and boot-cut jeans. The flare begins at the knee in bell-bottoms. And the flare in boot-cuts begins mid-calf. Either way, they now are off-kilter to my eyes.

Even more off-kilter to me is the parade of uneven dress hemlines that keeps showing up in recent years. I am adjusting to the half-tuck of tops but not to uneven hemlines.

In junior high my clothes fetish was mohair sweaters and stirrup pants. I had two pairs of stirrup pants, royal blue and moss green. I collected mohair sweaters that made me itch, learning that sometimes fashion is uncomfortable.

My senior year, I wore a pair of chunky-heeled, lace-up, shiny, fake-crocodile, chocolate brown shoes. These shoes and my love for my mom’s red high heels eventually led me to wearing high heels constantly.

The height of my heels stretched out my arches enough that my feet actually hurt more when I tried to wear flats. Was it ridiculous to wear heels that high? Yes, indeed, and, yet, it was so much fun.

My fibromyalgia diagnosis ended my days of wearing high heels. Sensible shoes felt better for my body but did nothing for my spirits.

I started collecting miniature shoes after being gifted a few in recognition of the death of my high heel days. I often had a miniature shoe that went with my outfit in my pocket so I could show-off the shoes I wished I was wearing.

Over the years, I got wiser about fashion, choosing comfortable clothes. My seven nieces, who all are in their 30s, did not suffer for fashion. They went for comfort from the get-go.

Although, my nieces wear thong underwear! They say that thongs are comfortable but I doubt it. They not only laugh at my granny panties, they laugh when I call flip-flops thongs.

Regardless, I am reluctant to take any fashion advice from my nieces, who think their waist is four inches below their actual waist. They were steadfast low-rise girls until recent years. My nieces think their high-rise jeans sit a few inches above their waist; whereas, I know high-rise jeans sit at your waist. I try to help them find their waists by singing and using hand motions — “Head, shoulders, waist — knees and toes, knees and toes.”

— Judy Holmes, a voracious reader and a fabulous cook, resides in Litchfield and thinks too much.

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