The other day, while I was walking through Boston's financial district during the evening rush hour, I saw a woman wearing an outfit that was straight out of the 1980's. She had on a well-made suit skirt, in what appeared to be a lightweight, summer wool - I wasn't able to reach out and rub a bit of the fabric between my thumb and middle finger - in a soothing but fairly dowdy taupe, cream, and pale yellow plaid. The skirt, which ended mid-calf, was fitted to the hips, then box pleated.
There was no jacket in sight, but it was a very hot day, and the woman - who appeared to be about my age, if not younger - may have left it in the office. The skirt definitely looked like it was part of a suit.
Other than the fact that the plaid was a bit more Music Man than Man in the Gray Flannel Suit, that skirt could have been the bottom half of any one of a number of Friedman of Boston or Brooks Brothers menswear suits I wore 20 of so years ago.
Let's see.
Over the years, I had a medium blue with subtle fuchsia and green pinstripes. (Sounds ghastly, but it was actually quite pretty.) A dark charcoal with subtle pink windowpane plaid. (Sounds ghastly, but it was actually quite pretty.) A medium beige with a subtle red and blue plaid thing going. (Sounds ghastly, but it was actually quite pretty.) Solid navy. Blue tweed. Solid gray. Solid black. Black and periwinkle hounds tooth check. Taupe (with Eisenhower jacket - war is hell, work is hell). And, for my summer enjoyment, pale lavender, pale aqua, blue and white seersucker, and a cream, taupe, and pink tweed.
Most of them - especially those Friedman suits - wore like iron and traveled spectacularly.
The woman I saw on the street was wearing a formal, long-sleeved white shirt. When I wore my suits, I mostly wore them with silk blouses - often with some sort of tie-ish thing at the color that I tied in a bow, or just flapped over for a more tie-ish effect. Early on, I also, on occasion, wore menswear shirts with silk, floppy bowties.
For a while after I stopped wearing suits to work every day (c. 1990), I wore the skirts and jackets as separates.
Then I stopped wearing them entirely.
They went into the donation pile. Some of the pieces may have gotten used. Most of it probably got ragged.
There was one final touch to the outfit the woman I saw was wearing: She had on stockings. And white athletic socks and sneakers.
Which, after paying all sorts of money to re-cover the heels of the Johnson and Murphy high heels I'd caught in brick sidewalks, I also did for a while, before I switched to flats. (As I recall, having caught site of myself in a window with dark stockings with white socks pulled over them, I realized that I looked sort of like a racehorse with taped ankles. So I went out and bought more sensible shoes and got rid of anything with a heel thin enough to get caught in the cracks of a brick sidewalk.)
Where did this woman work, I wondered, that they still dressed like that? Accounting? Banking? Law? The women I know in those professions do get dressed up for work, but none of them are stuck in the 1980's - no more long, box-pleated skirts; shorter skirts or pantsuits; interesting tops.
Frump, I thought when I saw that skirt, those sneakers.
But as someone who frumpped through the workplace for many a year, I also thought: practical, sensible, comfortable, no-nonsense, professional. No slave to fashion. If the clothing still has wear in it, why not wear it?
Good for her!
But she sure did stick out - I haven't seen any one dressed quite like that in a good long time.
But what I have seen is a lot of women half her age, traipsing around downtown Boston, mid-day in the workweek, dressed like they were heading to the Bada-bing for a pole dance.
Obviously, I don't notice those who are dressed "normally", those who manage to fall in the middle between the frumps and the grinds.
But I do seem to notice plenty who are dressed for what has got to be abnormal at almost every type of office work environment I can think of.
Sure, you may want to go clubbing after work, but can't you bring a change of clothing to the office. Or at least keep one more button buttoned. Or throw a shirt or sweater over that neckline that has taken a decided plunge?
I have a friend who has a senior management position in a downtown (i.e., more dressed up than Route 128 techie) company. She's told me that many of the younger women in the firm have no real sense of what it means to dress professionally: flip-flops, see-through blouses, micro-mini skirts. Why not?
Anyone who cautions them about what they're wearing comes off as a jealous old frump.
My friend - who has beautiful clothing, is quite fashionable, and has loads of interesting shoes, bags, and jewelry - is held up as someone who dresses appropriately, but with flair and a sense of fun. (She's probably viewed as an Auntie Mame eccentric.)
But she's also found a happy medium between frump-er-ella and let's go clubbing.
I'd hate to see the world go back to the ironwear suits of yore (and not just because I don't have mine any longer). In retrospect, we looked boring, somewhat unnatural, sheep in wolves' clothing.
But it was apparently a necessary step that women had to endure to become more accepted in the workplace. We should all be happy that it's over.
Most of the women I see going to work look just fine: if they're in suits, the suits are attractive, professional, and flattering. This summer, a lot of women - especially the younger ones - are wearing cotton print skirts, and they look fresh and lovely in them.
In my khaki capris and LL Bean tee-shirt, I'm hardly a fashion arbiter.
But I do know that at least Ms. Frump never has to worry about whether they're keeping her around to catch a glimpse of her breasts. Her look may not have aged that well - she stuck out as much as the proto-pole-dancers do - but it's sure aged a lot better than the other look ever will.
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