Once, when I was around 19 or 20 and still living with my parents, I remember leaving the house to go see a film screening at the theater at Georgia State with my friend Andrew. I only vaguely remember what I was wearing: men’s double-knit pants, a shirt or sweater of some kind, and a corduroy blazer on top, all vintage. (This was in the late 1990’s, so I was pretty stylish for the times.) No clue what the shoes were, but I do remember that my purse was a beautiful little embroidered number I had picked up at Walt Disney World, in the Pirates of the Caribbean shop. As I was leaving home, I stopped in and said goodbye to my mom. She looked at my attire and proceeded to ask me, Is that what you are wearing? Used to this question by now, as it was her standard goodbye response to me, I replied, Yep, and kept walking. As I got to the door I heard her say, Well, at least I won’t have to worry about you getting mugged tonight.
Fast forward 10 years and not much has changed. It’s almost comical how vastly different our tastes are. My dad has been known to take my mom gift shopping for me, just to get the opposite of whichever item she likes. If she says red, he buys blue. She lives Victorian furniture with lace doilies, I like Victorian furniture with gaudy 1970’s crystal lamps. We each have our own strong, distinct sense of style… the two just do not match up.
I tell you all of that because today, when my mom saw me, she looked at my outfit and said, You like nice. Totally out of the blue, a compliment on my appearance. That’s one for the record books, kiddos. I guess this remix is working!