Fashion has always been influenced by regional
factors. The weather alone limits one's options.
In the past trends slowly moved inward from the
east and west coasts. Meaning that what might
be deemed de rigueur in Wichita was already
considered passe' in Pasadena. In our modern
times of digital data and on-line gratification
there is in theory absolutely no reason for not
looking one's best. However being stylish sadly
has become the exception rather than rule. As
indicated by the obvious decline in dressing
that occurs the farther one gets from the city.
How did we get ourselves into such a mess?!
Nowadays one can get anything from anywhere.
However one must know what they want. Here
in Lewistown Bergdorf's or Barneys are ready
and waiting to ship one the latest togs. Yet sadly,
most of what seems appropriate for a weekend
of exploring the upper east side won't work in
the wild west. Therefore even the most affluent
of local doyens attire themselves in a manner
akin to a butch dyke. Faces freshly scrubbed.
Hair kept short for easy maintenance. Along
with a fleece vest, practical cargo pants, some
form of hiking footwear, and a dash or two of
activewear. Sexy isn't it? What became of chic?
It really doesn't matter whether they've given
up or in. The fact is they've adjusted to their
environs and competitive environment. Not
without exception. Frank's mother always put
herself together in a most elegant manner. She
perfectly maintained that delicate balance of
looking lovely and not out of context. Never
lording it over her female peers. Fortunately
for us a few local ladies continue to carry her
torch. Exceptions to the rule, they obviously
put time and thought and effort into how they
look. The result of which makes our world
lovelier and they themselves more appealing.
Obviously climate impacts what one can and
cannot wear. And yet local style influences
have a more dramatic effect on how we look
at ourselves. In Dallas almost every lady is
decked out - even if it is to grab a gallon of
milk. Fortunately climate control insures that
even if it was one hundred outside, one still
freezes their ass off. Forcing most to carry
an emergency cashmere sweater at all times.
The first time I went to Los Angeles. I went
shopping. While warm outside, Saks Beverly
Hills air conditioning was at Siberian levels,
No wonder every shopper was wearing sable.
Geography certainly drives sartorial selections.
However one's local peers also influence style.
New Englanders invest in classics. Whereas
southern belles tend to over do things. Years
ago I was at a Easter brunch with my parents
in Virginia. Immersed in a pastel tsunami of
matching frocks, hats, shoes, and bags - one
lady stood out. Dressed in a chic black sheath
she oozed sophistication. Later my mother's
friend brought said lady over to our table.
Announcing "Ethel, dear, I want you to meet
my daughter from New York." Proving that
we are what we wear wherever we wear it...
