What Are You Wearing?

The other shoppers kept looking sideways at me as I advised my daughter on clothes today. "Neon colors," I'd say, looking through racks of blouses. "Shoulder pads." "A blouse with a big, floppy bow at the neck," (to which she replied, "Oh, NO!") Looking through skirts, I advised, "Think denim with lots of lace and shiny things. (Slightly puzzled, my 24 year old queried, "Like bedazzled?") The most surreal moment came in the shoe department. My daughter wondered aloud whether she should buy a pair of high heeled, pointed toed sandals made of gold snakeskin, and my reply was, "If you can imagine Madonna wearing it, you're probably safe." There's a sentence I never imagined myself uttering.

We were shopping at Goodwill, trying to find an outfit for the 80s themed party my daughter's attending this weekend. I'd pull dresses off of the rack and say, "This is very 80s," or, "Look for those big, puffy sleeves that you hate." After about half an hour, my daughter said to me, "So, what I'm hearing is, find the most hideous clothes that you can."

I'd contemplated loaning her my wedding gown, but I don't think it would fit her. Besides, a wedding gown would probably be wildly out of place at a party.

Later, standing in front of the costume jewelry at WalMart, she'd asked, "Is this 80s?" and, "What about these?" "It's hard to remember," I told her. "I was never fashionable."

She laughed out loud - "Great, Mom, great," but I wasn't kidding.

In 1980, I was graduating from junior high. By 1990, I had a high school diploma, a husband, a mortgage (on the second home we'd ever bought), and two preschoolers, who would turn 3 and 4 that year. Never, in all that time (or any other), was I dressed fashionably.

Trying to think back, so I could help my daughter choose, I was mostly thinking about movies. What, besides the prom dress, did Molly Ringwald wear in "Pretty in Pink" - or was that the 90s? What did Madonna wear in "Desperately Seeking Susan?" All I could recall were fingerless gloves and some kind of big, mesh bow in her hair. What constituted the New Wave look? I tried to remember the fashionable kids in high school.

When my kids were born, we got keepsake "Baby's First Year" calendars, the kind where you put stickers to commemorate rolling over, visits to grandparents and the like. At the top of each month were places to put things like the baby's family tree, headlines and other records. One month had a headline that said something like, "What Was Popular." Some of it I could fairly easily fill out - "President of the U.S.," "Hit Songs" - but the line for "Popular Fashions" stumped me. I had to really think, and then wing it. For my daughter born in 1987, I wrote "acid washed denim." Even as I wrote it, I pictured her asking me, years later, what made acid washed different from any other denim, and me fumbling. "It looks kind of faded, but not like regular fading from wear..."

I wore jeans and T-shirts, which became knit pants and T-shirts. I never had Big Hair. I may never have been fashionable, but I'm recognizable, and not embarrassed by my old photos. Or my current ones. Maybe I'm just oblivious, but if I am, I'm OK with that.

My daughter has wondered aloud at the wisdom of throwing a party where "we all look like crap." Hey, kid, it's a theme - go with it!

She settled on a neon plaid madras shirt with a turqouoise top underneath, leggings under a very short, ruffled skirt, black tennis shoes, turquoise feather earrings, plastic bangles, blue eyeshadow and a ponytail sprouting out of the side of her head. She'll look amazingly authentic - and without puffy sleeves. Now, if I can only talk her into some big shoulder pads...