Story by Jon Stalnaker AKA The Studebaker Dude
I spend way too much time on Facebook and I have considered taking a break from it from time to time. I used to get particularly annoyed by all the political rhetoric but have honed my swiping skills on that stuff. Besides, I refuse to participate in that subject matter. This is about as much as I’ve ever said about it. There is so much to get irritated about on Facebook, it’s no wonder there is so much hate these days. I like using it to stay connected with friends and family, but I try to stay away from the hate speak that has become so accepted on Facebook. I lived through the 70s and still hang on to the messaging of “All You Need Is Love”.
One of the post narratives that has been popping up on my Facebook page lately is the subject of fashion tips for Boomers. I wear my Boomer status with pride and find it amusing that the generations who think it’s alright to wear your pants below your underwear are giving me advice on how to dress properly. It doesn’t make me mad, but I find it so pathetic that it doesn’t even rise to LOL status. It’s not funny, it’s more of a SMH response for me. I think I can confidently speak for most boomers when I say that what you think is cool, or hip, or appropriate attire for us to wear, means nothing to us. At our advanced age, comfort is the name of the game. Not only that, but our wardrobes have been accumulating over the years. We are on a fixed income and see no need to buy clothes to replace perfectly good ones, just to keep up with the Kardashians. When you hear the old joke that we have socks older than you, it’s probably true; it is for me.
I wasn’t one to follow the fashion of the day all the time. Yes, I wanted Beatle boots, and peg-leg pants when I was in junior high school, but as I got older my taste turned to what I thought was cool and not what someone else thought was cool. I even wore white socks and blue deck shoes when I moved to Chicago to go to the DeVry Institute of Technology. Boy I took a lot of heat over that, but instead of tossing them out, I came to like being different. Later in my life, I took to wearing Hawaiian print shirts. It doesn’t sound so unusual now, but back then I could only find them at the Goodwill stores. When they became popular, it kinda spoiled it for me.
My son Stephen approached me when he was in high school wanting some advice on what he should wear to fit in. I told him that he should wear what he likes despite what anyone else thinks. I said you don’t need to follow fashion trends but should create fashion statements of your own. He started wearing ties to school. Nobody else was doing that, I was so proud of him. Speaking of ties, when I became a manager in the Post Office, proper dress was a requirement. While staying within limitations, I did wear my ties loose around my neck and mostly wore what I considered to be cool ties. I don’t think I ever wore a white-collar shirt, it was always a color, even pink was in my wardrobe. I still didn’t like not wearing my Hawaiian shirts, as I had so many. In my last few years as a postmaster, I wore Hawaiian shirts and a plain colored tie. I don’t know why I didn’t think of that earlier.
I had a few special assignments at Postal Headquarters in Washington DC. I loved it there as I fit right in with the managers that worked there. They liked my ties and we shared a common fashion taste. It wasn’t that I wanted to look different than everybody else in management, it was more like I WAS different than most of my peers. Most of the mid-management peers I worked with thought you had to be stoic and professional at all times. I was of the mindset that you can enjoy your work and still be efficient at it. It came natural to me and most of my fellow supervisors thought that you had to kick butt and take names to run a tight unit. They were always asking me how I achieved the productivity numbers I did. I’ve never been one to do what everybody else does, and I’ve no intention of ever being that kind of person. So, go ahead and call me a boomer. Go ahead and tell me I don’t dress right. It’s not going to make me mad. It’s not going to hurt my feelings either. I’m happy being myself and I really don’t care what anyone thinks about how I dress, with the exception of my wife.
