Frou Frou Flounces and Suits

In the spare corners of my mind, I've been tossing around how our generations will influence the future in fashion and design. I've learned a lot lately about the next big generation coming up, the Gen X and the Gen Y. Contrary to demographic prediction, the babies of the boomers are not a boomlet, but boom-bigger. Birth rates continue to rise. It turns out that boomers kept having children even as they've aged, and that Gen X started having families earlier.





So what is this newest generation? They are scheduled and watched over and cherished by helicopter parents. They run in packs. They dress alike. Think golf shirts, chinos and jeans.

Which got me to thinking about how this newest generation will influence fashion as they hit the work force.

There's another little nugget on how this generation will change us. The girls are continuing to secondary education in record numbers, and boys' attendance is dropping. It will be the girls running our corporations, not the boys. Where will our young men go? I predict they will go to the trades, where there will be flexibility and freedom. It will be the young fathers, I suspect, who will be picking up their children from school.

Another pondering in my crowded brain is the difference between frou frou flounces and suits. Why have men perfected an office uniform, while women continue to flit through the spectrum of color and design? I suspect it has to do with the gender biases regarding power and control. A man in a pack must establish his conformity and dominance early. This means a power suit, which exudes confidence, dominance, wealth, and intelligence. For a man in our current culture, these are attractive attributes. A woman in a severe suit, however, is mildly terrifying. I quote Marlo Thomas, "A man has to be Joe McCarthy to be called ruthless. All a woman has to do is put you on hold." So the woman's attire at the office is a little frillier, sillier, and impractical. The message here is that "I am harmless, creative, and sweet. You want to help me."

But this dynamic will change as women in packs start to take over the office. Power for a woman will be in her ability to work her team. As much as this makes me shudder, think Gossip Girl all grown up, strutting down the hallway with her posse.

So I predict that this next generation of women will dictate a new uniform for the office. It will be softer, it will be easy maintenance, but it will also be more alike. I'm thinking Chanel classics here. Not the latest stuff, but the suits of the fifties and sixties.

I cite two sources for my new-found knowledge, Millennials Rising: The Next Great Generation by Neil Howe, William Strauss, and R.J. Matson and a presentation by Bani Dheer, Futurist.

More of that nervous energy...

The other night I caught myself spastically reaching for the popcorn. I did not stop until I gave my hands something else to do. So I pulled out my knitting. I now have a DS cover nearly done.

I don't know if my iPod and cell phone socks will take off, but it seems that they should be really cool. I do check with really cool people like my granddaughter and my neice just to be sure. My daughter scoffed at my idea until she saw a woman with a cell phone sock on the train. She, also, had balked at the cost of the iPod sock and opted to make her own...out of a real sock.

Anyways, that's how I kept my hands busy. When I am dieting, I am overwhelmed with frenetic energy, searching for an outlet. It is my hungry cells looking for their ambrosia? What will it take to get them to open up?

A Rear View on our City Streets

Is it gay for a woman to admire another's butt? I'm thinking not. I admire beauty in all forms, and through my hubby's eyes, I've honed my skills at seeking out those curves. I also enjoy spotting them first to remind my hubby that I'm not blind, stupid, or dead. What he sees, I see too. Well, this time I was walking alone on our windy streets, so my humming admiration I had to keep to myself. To describe this woman's rear with words alone would be inadequate. I also cannot fully describe the flow of her curves as she walked down the street. This crude drawing might help.

The fabric snuggled her perfectly, and the shirring down the back, ending in a cute little bow...ooh la la.

A woman who takes the time to put herself together so carefully, she must know, must she?

On the same day, I was assaulted with another butt. But this time it did not elicit the same admiration. I am sure the woman was trying for a similar effect, but this time the clothes did all the talking. They were low-rider jeans that ended just before the crack. Her form was poured in to the square jeans, so instead of a round butt, I encountered a squashed rectangle. She also sported the unfortunate fashion of bubbled flesh just above her belt. I was close enough to see the goose bumps. Ick.