Saturday, 8 August 2020

Out of Fashion

Out of fashion

He had only been in fashion once in his life, during the penultimate year of his high school education, at the school formal. Flares were in style. Those tight, hip-hugging trousers that gripped from hips all the way down the thighs to the knees, and then, as if needing to take a gasp of breath, opened up to a flared hem that covered the whole shoe. He had read somewhere that sailors wore such things because it allowed them to pull on their pants (or remove them) without having to take off their shoes, saving vital seconds in the event of shipwreck. He had never bothered to follow the path that took such an understandably necessary style all the way to the far removed catwalks of high street couture, mainly because he knew very little about how the fashion industry worked, but he did understand that its engine was emotion, not logic.

The flares he wore to that school formal were bright blue with a crimson pinstripe, held  precariously on the hips by a 3 inch-wide tan vinyl belt. His shoes were black and maroon with platform heels that rivaled the belt in height. A golden orange shirt with a high collar folded over a blue and red paisley tie, whose span soundly trumped both belt and shoes in measurement, finished his outfit. Unless you lived in the seventies, you would have no idea how this could be accepted as popular fashion, but it was not only accepted, but enthusiastically embraced by the masses. Which is not to say that class and good style had fled mankind altogether, as he was soon to discover. 

Walking up the steps to the auditorium where the festivities were being held,  Snow White, the school captain, loudly exclaimed, "Good on you, Chimesy!", as he looked his attire up and down. Pleasantly surprised at the unexpected approval, he raised his chin, stuck out his chest and marched confidently through the foyer into the hall. The room was filled with all the students of the graduating year. The young women dressed in stylish understated dresses; fetching but demur. The boys modelled dark trousers and tweed jackets or subdued sports coats. The only ones wearing bright coloured clothing like his was a bunch of bodgees made up of the undesirables of the school's male population. Known as riff-raff, and conscientiously spurned by all the females in the school population,  Snow White's comment suddenly held a completely different tone and meaning. Rather than approval, he now heard a mocking gloat and immediately realized that while he did not reside, in attitude or academic standing, in the rabble-rousing group, his choice of attire forever cemented him in its membership in the eyes of the other students.

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