Gratitude - Day 24

"We can only be said to be alive in those moments

when our hearts are conscious of our treasures."
Thornton Wilder

Dad is a creature of habit. As soon as he is finished with his nightly ablutions, he hops into bed and turns on the TV. He turns into channel 3 and leaves it there waiting for the news whether he is awake or asleep. Sometime during this hour I tuck him in, put drops in eyes, and make sure he has water and pills for the night. All that done, I've started holding his hand for a few minutes and watch some TV with him.



The CBS nightly line-up changed recently. Now instead of listening to Dr. Phil rail at people, and, in my opinion, exploit them for his own gain, we watch Oprah. I have mixed feelings about Oprah. But I like her 100% more than Dr. Phil. Last week her guest was Tim Gunn, fashion guru although I'm not sure why. The show was all about making over men who, in the opinion of their loved ones, needed help with wardrobe and de-hairing.



Gunn lamented, and Oprah agreed, that Americans seem to dress for comfort. This is apparently an absolute fashion no-no. One subject in question was "mom" jeans, or in this case, "dad" jeans - a la President Obama. Forget that a pair of well-worn jeans is comfortable, according to Gunn it is cause for the fashion police to lock you in your room til you come to your senses. How, I ask, does Tim Gunn know this? I am sure he would never be caught dead in a pair of jeans. Even the straight legged, dark blue, no sags, jeans that he was touting.



What is wrong with comfort? I'm at a point in my life where comfort is not a dirty word. I see women wearing pointy toed, 4+inch heels and I wonder how they even stand up, much less walk. I have traded most of my dress shoes for brightly colored Birkenstock sandals. I'd also rather wear a soft cotton brassiere than something that strangles my boobs and makes them look two-sizes bigger. If both my feet and my breasts were wrapped up so tight, I'd be one very unhappy girl.



You can probably imagine that I am a "mom-jeans" wearer. I looked at a pair of my old standby jeans this morning and tried to judge my appearance the same way as Stacy and Clinton of What Not to Wear. No doubt if I stood in that 3-way mirrored booth wearing my jeans, a sweatshirt, and my Birki's I'd be chastised til the cows come home. Strangely as that thought passed through my brain, another took its place. My favorite pair of jeans has probably seen as much history as a dining room table where families gather for dinner and holiday festivities. How is it that Gunn and other fashion dictators do not take things like this into account?


I'm all about letting others do what they want as long as it doesn't hurt anybody. If women want to wear tight shoes, tight bras, or tight jeans so be it. But I'll go for comfort every time. Today I'm grateful for jeans with room to breathe. The perfect pair of pants to wear when sitting down at the Thanksgiving table!

Wishing for you the comfort of your favorite things,
Merry ME