Kimmy Sophia Brown

Clothes Don't Make the Man, Clothes Make Dirty Laundry

Dec 16, 1996
Every time I am going somewhere that requires dressing up, I go through a similar scenario of aggravation trying to figure out what to wear. My limited wardrobe sneers at me from the closet. Deja Vu, deja vu. Already seen, already seen. Oh, would that I were Barbie.

"What should I wear?" I ask my husband, (with lots of agony in my voice.)

"Wear your blue dress," he says helpfully.

"The belt does this weird thing," I say, (with exasperation).

"Wear the red one," he says.

"It needs to be dry cleaned," I say, (with increasing mournfulness).

"Wear the other blue one," says he, with enthusiasm.

"I wore that one the last time I went there," I say, (revving up for "pout" mode).

"Wear the green one," he says.

"It's a summer dress and now it's fall," I answer, (the pitch of my voice rising in anguish.)

"Wear jeans," he says, patiently.

"Jeans are too casual, I need to wear something nice," I reply, the whining tone increasing.

(Note here: If every function required jeans and a T-shirt, I 'd be fine.)

"Wear the blue one," he suggests again.

"I told you, the belt does this weird thing," I shriek, throwing my black pumps at the wall.

"I guess you need some new clothes," he says.

"Now you're talking!" I squeal gleefully.

This wardrobe problem is a constant chafe. First you have to buy the clothes, then you have to keep them clean. It's always something! Then you have to keep your body the same size (or smaller) or else they don't fit anymore. (Not that I've had any problem with that item.) (HA!) Also, you have to try to remember how much you liked an item when you bought it, so that you don't start to hate it after you've worn it too often.

Many times I have looked down at a pile of dirty laundry that I didn't feel like washing and asked myself the rhetorical question: I wonder what would happen if I flushed these down the toilet?

Back in 1960, Mrs. Kilbourne, my kindergarten teacher, read our class a story about a man who hated washing dishes. He ate out of every dish in his house, even the flower pots, until the dishes piled up to the ceiling. When he finally ran out of containers, he took everything out onto his lawn and washed them in the rain. And dad burn it, he done learnt his lesson! (Which was, of course, to buy paper plates!)

Which leads me to my next point. Why doesn't somebody invent disposable fashions? There's wash'n'wear. Why not wear'n'toss? Maybe they could even be flushable! After all, I live in America! We've made convenience and labor saving devices a national religion. Has anybody besides me thought of this yet? Someone could invent clothes like the ones they make for paper dolls. They could clip over your shoulders with paper tabs. As long as you're standing still, and nobody walks behind you, you look great. You just have to remember to face everyone you talk to, and never sit down on cold, metal, folding chairs. (Or on hot, vinyl car seats, either, for that matter.)

These fashions would be low-cost, and would allow the consumer a much vaster range of styles and fashion statements. The anguished moments of indecision would be gone forever and the possibilities are endless. The laundry problem would be solved too because you just, "wear 'n'toss'!

There would be some drawbacks, though -- little things like sudden gusts of wind, rain or snow (particularly if they were the water soluble variety), unwanted sunburn on one's backside, insect bites, and possibly even, the occasional pinch.

The whole idea would work a lot easier if this weren't a three dimensional world. Maybe we could all pray and petition God to recreate us into cartoon form. Actually that would have great advantages on the cosmic level. He could take a giant eraser and easily eliminate litter and toxic landfills. People whose noses are too big, or who have a weight problem could ask for a close encounter with the giant eraser too. It might take its toll on the plastic surgery and lipo-suction industry, but most of us would remain smiling and well-dressed. We'd never have to do laundry again and it wouldn't matter if anyone walked behind us.

Gee, it feels great to find workable solutions to these pesky problems. I'm going to run for congress.

Kim lives in Maine, which is lovely, and where she continues her enthusiastic relationship with Art, Music, Nature, Books, Animals, Humor and Trees.