Tags
creative writing, fashion, humor, jeans, mouse, Susie Lindau, Toyota
(A humorous essay from the book I’m working on, The Green Hornet Suit…)
A few years ago, my parents took a road trip to Georgetown, Kentucky, to tour the Toyota manufacturing plant. That wasn’t the sole destination of the trip; it just so happened that the factory was on their way home, and being retired with nothing better to do, they decided to stop.
It also seems that while they were there, Dad needed a jacket. Keep in mind that he’s prone to impulse buying. Some of us are just happy to snag a good deal on a laptop now and then, but when his stops working, say, the lid makes a funny creaking sound when it closes, he’s off to the store for its replacement.
He was a traveling salesman for years, and he routinely came home toting new suits, bags of donuts or specialty cheese, or even bigger things that only fit in the garage. We never knew, because my mom got to the point where she refused to crack the garage door on reality, feeling that ignorance in this matter was her own form of bliss.
So my parents took the Toyota plant tour, getting the lowdown on how all the cars look before they’re recalled. Afterward, Dad decided he needed a new jacket. Why, I’ll never know, because his closet was already stuffed with blazers and button-down oxford shirts, ties dripping off the rack like dead pheasants, but he decided a new jacket was in order, so he bought the Mouse Jacket.
I’m sure he could have picked from a number of snazzy Toyota-embellished models, racing jackets, or logoed windbreakers. His, though, was a yawny tan, a nondescript number with a zip front and two side pockets with handy-dandy snaps, practical things meant for storing bottles of blood pressure tablets or dried-up hankies.
It wasn’t “him” at all, and he announced this fact whenever he got the chance.
“Looks like I’ll wear the Mouse Jacket today,” he’d say with a put-on sigh, like he didn’t have ten other jackets to choose from.
My parents would be invited out with friends, the Mouse Jacket a silent, nondescript dinner companion, watching the festivities with a twitchy, quivering air.
“Yes, I wore the Mouse Jacket,” my dad reported after such an event. “I was the only one there with a jacket like that.”
I started to wonder if there was some connection between age and washed-out clothing – kids will wear sequins and stripes, toss on mismatched colors like salt on popcorn, but as people age, their clothing colors dry up, like their sartorial exploration evaporated, leaving behind a crackle-topped pond of memories.
I witnessed this at Sears a few years ago, where my original mission was to find a new pair of jeans. This is more like an adventure that’s best done in stages, the Everest of fashion, if you will.
Base Camp #1 is canvassing the store, seeing what kind of jeans they stock.
Base Camp #2 involves actually taking a pair or ten off the racks and holding them up to your body, flipping them this way and that as you imagine yourself wearing them…maybe.
Base Camp #3 is where you examine the jeans, looking for the crucial back-pocket placement. Too close and your butt looks huge. Too far apart and your butt looks huge. Too small and your butt looks huge…it never ends.
Base Camp #4 involves narrowing down your choices and actually trying a pair or ten on. Legs too skinny and you’ll look like an ice cream cone. Legs too wide and you’ll look like you’re going to a hoe-down. Combine that with the pocket placement issue and you could be there all day.
Base Camp #5? Maybe you’ll buy a pair, but more likely, you’ll give up and go out for a drink or ten.
I was in the middle of Base Camp #3 when I spotted two grannies a few racks away. They were picking through shirts, and it seemed like one granny was helping the other make some critical choices.
While I agonized over my jeans dilemma, the grannies hit pay dirt.
“Ooh, look at this shirt, Helen,” Granny #2 gushed. “I think it’ll be perfect with the pants you’re wearing.”
I was happy for them! Together, they defied the odds and actually found something to wear in less time than it took me to find a pair of jeans. While I was still struggling to reach Base Camp #4, they blazed past me and summitted before my very eyes.
Then I looked at what Granny #2 held up – a tan, short-sleeved polyester shirt with little bitsy pearl buttons. Helen was apparently going to wear this with the tan pants she already had on. It was an entire Mouse Outfit, defying every fashion law saying you mustn’t, shouldn’t, ever wear color-on-color, especially after Memorial Day.
It brazenly bucked tradition, and darn it all, she was happy. The shirt went in the cart, and the grannies wheeled off to plant their flag at the nearest checkout.
I stood there at Base Camp #3, jeans hanging limply in defeat. When all it takes is a tan shirt and a Mouse Jacket to make you happy, where was I going wrong? Reality zipped up my backside with cold teeth – would that be me someday, shopping with a friend, ecstatic because I found the perfect Mouse Jacket, or an oatmealy shirt to wear with my poly pants?
At this point, I wasn’t sure I wanted to know, but I knew one thing: I wouldn’t reach Base Camp #5 anytime soon.
silkpurseproductions said:
You brought back some wonderful memories for me of my Dad. When I was in college I spent an eternity looking for the perfect Christmas gift for him. My budget set some strict limitations as did his taste in clothes. Which I thought fell into the “mouse jacket” category. In the end I found him this wonderful fall jacket that had been marked down considerably which I thought would be very much like a “gag” gift. It was a crazy plaid pattern which I was sure why they marked it down to get rid of it. I thought he might end up raking leaves in it or something. He loved that jacket. He wore it everywhere, no matter what. Every time he put it on he would say, “this is the best gift I ever got”. At first I thought he was humouring me but my family verified he wore it all the time. They were none to pleased about it. He still had that jacket 30 years later, although by that time it was so worn out he only wore it to rake leaves.
Susie sent me.
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dmswriter said:
That’s a great story! It obviously made your dad very happy, seeing as he kept it for 30 years. And good memories, too, I’m sure. Glad you stopped by!
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barbara techel said:
Wow, did I enjoy your essay today! Oh my gosh, did I chuckle and relate! I’m with you on the Base Camp stages and more often than not opt for a skirt, dress or yoga pants. Though I’m not quite sure I can move to the “mouse jacket” tan stage yet …. but who knows, sure seems to make life much simpler now doesn’t it?
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dmswriter said:
Yoga pants are my new go-to pants – they totally eliminate the anxiety associated with finding just the right pair of jeans. Maybe we can consider tan a great neutral, and a good start to a very chic wardrobe. Sounds Parisian, doesn’t it? 😉
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Emily @ Adventures of a Dog Mom said:
Great story… I’m happy to say I haven’t reached the “Mouse” phase yet!
PS. Susie sent me!
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dmswriter said:
Thanks for stopping by, Emily! Let me know if you approach Mouse-dom anytime soon. 🙂
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Audrey Kalman said:
Susie sent me. I really enjoyed this but fear that despite not considering myself an old lady, I may already have fallen into the mouse-clothing trap, with a closed full of gray, black, tan, and brown 🙂
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dmswriter said:
Thanks for stopping by, Audrey! I think I have a solution to your dilemma – a scarf. Find a lovely, patterned scarf and toss it over your Mouse Clothes with reckless abandon. Scarves fix anything, I’ve found. 😉
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silentlyheardonce said:
Hi Susie sent me. Your story is charming and engaging. I kind of shop like the grannies. 🙂
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dmswriter said:
I couldn’t believe how happy they were about finding a tan shirt! It was cute, really. Glad you stopped by!
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susielindau said:
I didn’t get what a mouse jacket was. I couldn’t make the correlation and then I had the eureka moment at the end. Mousey beige…
I haven’t gone Mouse yet, but I don’t wear micro minis either!
Thanks for bringing this to the party!
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dmswriter said:
Hey, thanks, Susie! Do you think I need to be more specific about naming the jacket, instead of just saying it was a “yawny tan, a nondescript number…”?? I know what the Mouse Jacket is, but I don’t want to assume everyone else does, either.
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susielindau said:
Yes. That lost me. You could say “the jacket was a mousy beige so he called it “the mouse jacket”….. or something like that. And the beginning is all about the trip to Toyota so I thought that was what the story was about. Maybe shorten that to a line. I hope you don’t mind my input!
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dmswriter said:
No, I don’t mind your input at all – in fact, I welcome it. It’s so easy to think something “reads” well, because I’ve spent time with it. Someone else might not read it the same way, but that’s what I need to know to make it better. Thanks!
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Kassandra Lamb said:
I love this story. And I’m not sure you have to worry. Some older folks get more outrageous in their clothing choices, like my stepfather. Of course, that could be because he’s colorblind and now widowed, so there’s no woman in the house to point out that burgundy and orange are not a good idea.
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dmswriter said:
Hi Kassandra- Thanks for stopping by! I can just imagine your stepfather, decked out in burgundy and orange, thinking he looks just fine. We have a few elderly men like that at church – they wear combinations that make your eyebrows hike up, but like your stepfather, there’s no one there to tell them otherwise. Ignorance can be bliss! 🙂
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karenspath said:
The Mouse Jacket! I love it. I wonder if I will secretly think “mouse pants” every time I iron my husband’s trousers. I’m still laughing about it. Thanks for sharing!
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dmswriter said:
Thanks, Karen – now you’ve got me laughing, too! I never thought of my husband’s khakis as his Mouse Pants, but they have a new name now. 🙂 Good one!
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karenspath said:
🙂
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Jess Witkins said:
I’d say someone found her niche! Look at the responses, Deanne! Wahoo!!!! I loved it. 😀
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dmswriter said:
Thanks a lot, Jess! It means a lot to hear you say that. It’s exactly how I feel when I write humor – like I found my niche. 🙂 Need to send you some beta stuff, too.
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Jess Witkins said:
Please do! And I’ll do the same. I have been working and am in process of putting all the chapters in order. Final edits round!!!
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