My son told me yesterday that I “look poor.” I think he was explaining why I’m less likely to be robbed or something. So it sounds like I’m not in any danger of being taken for fashionable.
I was a semi-hippie when my generation was being hip, so I might have accidentally been fashionable then; but to me it was always more a matter of comfort than dictated style, and long hair, shifts, sandals, and jeans were worlds more comfortable than shirtwaist dresses, ironed white blouses, straight skirts, and hair rollers were ever going to be. Again, fashion decreed what was available, and suddenly easy dressing for women was available.
Sure, I had a few cute dresses and little stack heels in my closet, but people told me I couldn’t disguise the student or hippie look even when I tried. I never knew exactly what they meant.
When my husband and I met our son’s girlfriend’s parents for the first time a few years ago, her jean-clad, ponytailed dad told her afterwards: “Why didn’t you tell me they were hippies? Then I wouldn’t have been so nervous.” Hippies? We were just dressing and speaking as we always do, and it was the 21st century. Hippies!