by Brenda Roger
Recently, I “googled” a boy who broke my heart in college. I was hoping to find him mired in a pit of despair. Not really. Anyway, he serves on boards of multiple charitable organizations, participates in fundraisers, and is married with two daughters. He is some sort of portfolio manager. There was probably not ever a chance that he would be anything less than successful. Kind of like the male version of me –in a parallel universe.
My dear husband is very good at his job. He advances in his career, participates in important projects and earns a real living. I am really very proud of him. He amazes me sometimes with his extensive understanding of very complex social and political problems.
Both of these successful men were on my mind at the exact same time that I was feeling completely used and invisible at work, so I decided that I needed a higher purpose. You know, something I can contribute to the world. I have since begun a one-woman crusade to bring back the “hostess skirt.” Go ahead. Read it again. You don’t need better glasses. I’m serious. The comeback of the “hostess skirt” is my new reason for living. I believe in attainable goals.
I’ve been reading Vogue since I was fourteen. Fashion is a spectator sport for me. The pattern of trends is so obvious to me that I can predict a color or a trend two years before it ever shows up in a magazine. A few years ago, I saw the caftan coming from a mile away. In the same way, I think the time is at hand for the hostess skirt to return, and just in case Anna Wintour isn’t paying attention, I am going to take matters into my own hands.
The “hostess skirt” for those who have never had the pleasure of experiencing one, was a trend in the late sixties and most of the seventies. Those less devoted to the “hostess skirt” than me might call it a skirt you wouldn’t wear in public. The sixties version of it was quite frequently knee-length, occasionally quilted, and always quite loud. Manifestations of its hospitality range from large prints in silk to provincial calico appliqués. By the seventies, the hemline dropped to the floor and could be complimented by a matching top of similarly offensive patterned fabric. They were whimsical, humorous, or just plain gaudy. Very frequently, the knee-length version is a reversible wrap skirt. Twice the fun! Be still my heart!
There is something appealing, in 2007, about having a cheerful skirt to put on when you are entertaining at home. If my neighbors are any indication, acceptable attire for receiving guests is sweats or a nylon running suit and slippers. I don’t know about you, but I would rather look at a reversible skirt with calico mushrooms appliquéd on it.
I must keep my exact plan for the 2007-2008 version of the hostess skirt an absolute secret. Everyone will just have to chew their nails to the quick in anticipation. In the meantime, I possess a vintage hostess skirt covered in cats, yes cats, and if you are lucky, perhaps you will see me trudging around town in it. It would be such a shame to keep it all to myself.
Does anyone remember the hostess skirt?