I don’t know if I mentioned this, but while at Woodbury Commons last weekend I bought a pair of clogs. I’m loathe to admit that, considering I grew up in the 70s when clogs were cool, as were such fashion don’ts as velour shirts, cowl-necked sweaters, and white jeans. Ah, those were the days.
Anyway, I now associate clogs with – well, not the Dutch. To me clogs mean I should be putting flowers in my hair – held in place by a barette with dangling ribbons, singing folks songs, espousing the benefits of birkenstocks, and eating granola. That’s so not me.
For a brief time in my junior year of high school that could have been me. I went through my hippie phase – but only the music, the books, the philosophy. I didn’t wear the clothes, that’s for sure. In fact, it’s quite possible that at the same time I was obsessed with the music Jimi Hendrix, Joan Baez, or reading The Doors of Perception or The Electric Kool-Aid Acid Test, it’s quite possible that I was still dressing like a preppie – you know, topsiders, izod, yadda yadda yadda.
Now my style is much more a mish-mash. I don’t shop at places like The Gap or Old Navy (mainly cuz I can’t fit in their clothes). I get my clothes primarily from catalogs (I hate going to malls and dealing with people). But this past weekend, I decided to get the clogs mainly because I know in the next few months my feet are gonna swell, and I refuse to stretch out the shoes I currently wear. My sister once borrowed my Doc Martens (for two years) and when she gave them back they were uncomfortable to wear for the rest of their days (may they RIP). I bought another pair a couple years ago and didn’t loan them out to anyone. I learned my lesson.
Where was I? Oh yeah, ruminating at first on the 70s fashions. Hey – remember those shirts that were made of linen/cotton and they looked like the sleeves were made out of dinner napkins resting on your shoulders? You know the ones I’m talking about. Did they ever come back? Cuz I’m all over those if they did. They were kewl… ; )