Harper's Ferry #220 Socks Trigger a Fashion Flashback

Socks dry on the line. . .

I eschewed socks in about 6th grade. They didn't work with my Speery topsider, kahki short, wish I were on a boat, in a body of water bigger than Raystown Lake "style." My look slowly evolved into something of a West Marine meets Gap business casual. (Tragic, I KNOW!!)

WARNING: I'm about to do a rather lengthy and boring personal style recap. I feel it's only fitting since I'm staying awake until all hours listening to a Top 40 Countdown from 1989!!!

I went back to socks in the high school era when they were essential for keeping my toes warm while trudging around the kitchen at the local Wendy's where I worked, or in a friend's parent's hunting camp or basement, or a truck while doing something mildly stereotypically redneck like spotlightin' or cow tippin' or paintballin'. The rest of my look waivered between basic/classic/simple and thrift store mix/match adventure. I picked a novel suit for Homecoming - something between a kelly and emerald green. I loved that suit. I loved everything about how a well fitted suit feels. It was an ah ha moment.

And then came college and the revival of the plaid kilt and knee socks look. I went full "Scotish/Irish/French/American" with these socks. Cable knit knee socks in navy. Navy Blue and Hunter Green plaid kilt (to the knee complete with big brass skirt pin). Camel hair cape (from the thrift store reminiscent of my paternal Grandma Dot), and a navy blue beret. I earned a couple of approving looks in biology lecture for sure. . .

But after intro biology came all sorts of other environmental science classes. These kids were wearing Doc Marten sandals and Birks with wooly socks, bib-overalls, tie-dies, and other borderline hippy stuff. They washed their hair with bars of soap. No conditioner?! They drank interesting beer and smoked clove cigarettes. I tried it out. The beer and clove cigs gave me the worst hangover EVER and the attire made me look like a Sherman tank. I did mix it up a few times with what I'd call low-rent Bebe. Pinstriped skirts, tights, white shirt, blazer or cardigan, heels, boots. Whatever could be cheaply purchased from the thrift store or local Fashion Bug.

What followed can best be described as poverty professional. I was straddling two worlds: student and working young adult. I tried to keep everything neutral or black.

Things may or may not have gone up from here in terms of my wardrobe depending on your taste. I recall with ridiculous fondness when I purchased my first Ann Taylor suit. It was my first semester of law school. It was a basic black all season three piece suit. It was a petite, sleek, and fit beautifully. C was there for the splurge. I really felt as if "I'd made it."

I stretched every piece of that suit as a wardrobe piece to the max. When it started to get that sheen from over-drycleaning, I was sad to part with it. I held on to it for a long time.

After all, It got me through Civ Pro with Lynch. It got me through Ks with Meyerson. It got me through happy hours. It got me through C's company's holiday party. . .And each time, it looked slightly different. And each time, I was confident in the fact that I looked just like me.