Dressing Appropriately

The idea for this blog topic came to me at the Y last fall. I usually finish my routine before Bud and have a few minutes to wait. On this particular day, as I waited in the row of chairs next to the track, a young woman was being interviewed for a job. She and the interviewer were sitting just a few feet away; I couldn't help overhearing them.

I listened as the woman talked about her move from California to live in Creston with an aunt "for a change from big city living." She listed her work experience and love of working with children. I thought she sounded like a very good job candidate.

The one thing I could not help but notice, though, was the way she was dressed - shorts, t-shirt, flip-flops. "Whatever happened to dressing up for a job interview?" I wondered. (I have never seen her at the Y since, so I assume she was not hired or works different hours than when I am there.)

It may be a generational thing, but I cannot imagine going for a job interview in anything less than a suit, dress or a dressy pantsuit. There were interviews I even bought a new outfit for - not only to be dressed appropriately but to give myself the little bit of extra confidence which can come from a new outfit.

This picture, taken at Tuck Corner in 1980, reminds me of another time of dressing (in)appropriately. We were still living on the acreage NW of Urbandale when Mom came up for a weekend. She had never been to Living History Farms, so we planned to take her there. The kids got ready and so did I - wearing the above outfit. Mom said, "Is that what you're going to wear!" with the tone and emphasis of disbelief. "Shouldn't you wear something else?" with the tone and emphasis of impropriety. I wasn't thinking about propriety. I worked inside all week long. Weekends were the only chance I had to work on getting a tan. I was going to wear as little covering as possible.

I know my Mom was embarrassed for me - at least embarrassed to be seen with me. I didn't care that particular day. Since then I have wished I'd had the sense to change my outfit.

Mom also disapproved the first time she saw me in a skirt above my knees. It was in the mid-60's when I still lived and worked in Corning. Betty lived in Omaha then. I had spent the weekend with her and we went shopping. I bought a beautiful, yellow, three-piece suit. The jacket was almost as long as the skirt. It wasn't a mini, but it was well above my knees. Mom said she was in town when she saw this young woman walking across the street about a block away. "She had on the shortest skirt! Then I realized it was you!" Mom later related to me. She thought I was scandalous; I KNEW I was in style.

I don't think I have been shocked by anything my daughter or granddaughters have worn. But then mores have relaxed so much in the last fifty years. About the only time I dress up anymore is for weddings and funerals; even then I just swap slacks for my usual jeans.

One thing for certain, even if I still had the figure, I wouldn't wear cut-offs and a halter top to anything I was going to with my Mother.