Showing posts with label peripheral neuropathy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label peripheral neuropathy. Show all posts

Thursday, May 22, 2014

A Fashionista Four Decades Ahead of the Trend

My mother used to keep clothing in her closet for decades, reasoning that eventually all fashion repeats itself. Of course, she didn't always wait for a particular style to return to vogue, but she was correct that designers revive the past. 

So it was with a little bit of a smirky “been there, done that” attitude that I noticed the lead article of Thursday’s Styles section of The NY Times described how blue is the new black when it comes to tuxedos (http://www.nytimes.com/2014/05/22/fashion/for-tuxedos-blue-is-the-new-black.html?_r=0). Yours truly was a fashionista four decades ahead of the trend. My wedding tuxedo back in 1973 was midnight blue, worn with a powder blue ruffled shirt and oversized velvet blue bow tie. 

I wore that tuxedo for more than a dozen years, until the waistline of the pants could be let out no more to accommodate my expanded tummy. I even had midnight blue shoes, a pair of Soldini Italian loafers with tassels I found in Macon, GA, at the opening of an Aim for the Best store. 

You've never heard of Aim for the Best? Not surprising. It was an effort by T.G. & Y. Stores of Oklahoma City, an old-fashioned variety and discount store chain of some 930 units and $1.9 billion in sales, to go upscale in the early 1980s. It was a beautiful store but required more discipline to operate than the good people at T.G. & Y. could muster on a consistent basis. Aim for the Best didn't last too long. For that matter T.G. & Y. didn't last too much longer either, a casualty of Wal-Mart’s conquest of middle America.

I loved those blue loafers even though my boss John made fun of them. After a resoling in the mid-90’s, the shoes felt tight. It broke my heart to give them away. I didn't realize it at the time but my discomfort had nothing to do with the shoes. It was an early warning sign of peripheral neuropathy in my feet.

Getting back to the tuxedo, I found a discrepancy between The Times article and Downton Abbey concerning the timing of when a dinner jacket with black tie and pants supplanted the more formal white tie and tails men of a certain social standing customarily wore in the evening. 


The Times dated the introduction of the tuxedo to no later than 1886, while Downton Abbey implied that a full 30 years later, during World War I, standards of dress became more lax and commonplace (http://blog.blacktieguide.com/2011/11/02/downton/). Personally, my comfort level remains blue, as in blue jeans. Sometimes worn with a casual sports jacket. 

Thursday, March 6, 2014

65 And Happy For It

I turned 65 today. No cause for concern, though I will admit I stayed under the covers till well past 9 am. By a stroke of work scheduling good fortune, Gilda had off today. She lay under the covers with me. Couldn't ask for a better start to my birthday.

I think my 65th birthday has had a greater impact on my sister. She called this morning to say she's okay with being two years older but it's the thought of having a younger brother who is 65 that is truly mind-rattling.

No deep meanings or messages intended today. No thoughts for eternity. Just an appreciation that life is good. No need to rush to acquire more. And then again more.

Just an enjoyment of little serendipities. I took Gilda's car to the Splash car wash this morning. As I was about to hand over my charge card I noticed a sign proclaiming car washes are free on one’s birthday.

We ate lunch at Harvest on Hudson along the Hudson River in Hastings. Under a bright sun the river sparkled. Did you know, at that point in the river, ice flows north at a fairly rapid clip? I indulged in a dessert because it was my birthday, I told the waiter. It took a long time for the dessert to arrive, but when it did we understood why. The pastry chef had inscribed Happy Birthday in chocolate script across the top of the plate.

The rest of the day we spent shopping. Those who know me well know that's one of my favorite pastimes. I was lucky to work for a magazine on retailing that allowed me to infuse my avocation with my vocation.

The morning I turned 35 I awoke to a pain in my right hip. It lasted several hours, never to return. Perhaps just a subliminal message that I had reached a milestone in my life, no longer young, not yet old. Hard to believe our son Dan is 35. 

Lately, my lower back has bothered me. Gilda says it’s because I don't stretch enough. Guilty. And my feet suffer from peripheral neuropathy, making wearing shoes highly uncomfortable. Today, neither my back nor feet bothered me. Who knows what tomorrow will bring.