When I was about 17 my cousin Frankie decided to get rid of her dining room table, chairs, and breakfront. These were no ordinary pieces of furniture. It was blond wood. The table was kidney shaped with an extension that was also a kidney. The chairs were delicate and shapely (very 50‘s) and the breakfront is as unusual as the table and chairs. They were getting rid of it and although it was probably expensive, it went out of style and they wanted to replace it. Soooo..... I begged to make it my own and simply store it in my aunt’s basement. They agreed.
It stayed in the basement until my aunt sold her house. By that time I was ending my college career and getting married. (It’s what we all did in those days and that lasted about as long as the table was in the garage). The table has been a part of my life for quite a few years. It has been lugged from wherever I lived to wherever I moved. It is a a conversation piece. Over the years it got terribly stained with ink etc. It needed to be repaired and I thought it would be wonderful if it was lacquered. It was not easy but I found a person to do it. However, rather than lacquer it he stored it in an old warehouse. It took us months to find it. We never found him. Two of the chairs were missing but we had all the other pieces. Joe, a handyman who had been doing some repairs around my house brought his truck and we gathered it all up. Much to our surprise, Joe said he could do the lacquering, (of course he could), so he took it and a month later the furniture was mine again and it was gorgeous.
But that’s not what I wanted to blob about. That story was merely a preface. When my Aunt moved and we cleaned out her house, I discovered some vintage clothes in the closets in the attic which no one wanted. Mostly they were considered old rags, but I loved them and cherished them, and wore them, for years. People often commented on them, (not in a nice way), but I felt sure they would eventually be prized possessions -- not valuable in a financial way, but in an emotional way, I always considered them treasures. I knew I was simply ahead of my time.
My clothing has always been unusual. For years I have been wearing black leggings as a staple. There are quite a variety of them in my drawers. (I have added some color to the collection but leggings are my pant of choice. Some friends said they were inappropriate. They meant I was too old for them. So What! Comfort became more important than style. But wait, this morning the style news was that everyone was wearing “yoga” pants (black leggings) for other than exercise. In fact, they are a direct challenge to jeans. The sale of leggings has increased 45% in the last two years.
Once again, I was ahead of the times.
And selfies? David has been taking pictures of himself (he is his favorite subject, as well as the only person he can count on to test a camera or a lens) for 100 years. He has also always been ahead of whatever the style trend. Style may be an exaggeration, but he is certainly ahead of most trends.