Just Because You CAN

I had a tough time with my outfit for the office Christmas party this weekend, but after throwing several heaps of dresses and skirts around, I finally figured it out, with the help of my sweetheart.

I wanted to go full-on Christmas with a lovely vintage plaid taffeta ankle-length skirt, complete with a three-inch black velvet band around the bottom. I paired it with a brand-new black cashmere sweater and thought I was ready to go, with just the right blend of vintage and new, formal and casual, only one hole in my pantyhose and my great big fake eyelashes glued firmly in place.

But I wasn't allowed out of the house. My sweetheart said in a tone women usually reserve for men, "Is that what you're wearing?"

Oh, that one's never a good phrase to hear. It's never a question, it's a judgement. And not an aquittal.

"It's Christmassy!" came my plaintive reply.

"Which Christmas?"

"Well, my mom made this for me." (maybe the Mom card would get me some leeway.) "It was before we met, but after I could get served, so sometime between 1984 and 1986. Hey, I wore this to a Junior Farmer Christmas Formal! Can you believe it still fits?" (looking for leeway with my newly trim figure...)

"Honey, just because you CAN wear something doesn't mean you SHOULD. Where's the sticky-outy thing that goes under it to poof it out?"

His reference to a crinoline sealed the skirt's fate. I guess 'old' and 'vintage' might be different things, but I'm not yet sure just how.

"Fine. Maybe I'll cut it up to use in a quilt..." I sighed.

"Not one that I'm sleeping under!" was Sweetie's quick reply.

In the end, I went with a little red wool number I wore to my friend Stephanie's wedding three summers ago. It's two sizes too big, but at least it's from this century, and even this decade.

I can't say the same for the lamp shade I had on later in the night, but that's another story.