Matching things.

When I was little it was very important to my mother, and to other mothers I think, for everything to match. If you had a dress with coral and teal stripes going through it (which I had) on a background of white, not refrigerator white, but that perfect creamy color white, I was not to wear bright white socks or coral and teal stripes going the other way or (heaven forbid) polka dots. The hat, the purse had to pick up some of the color in the dress, perhaps a little bunch of flowers or ribbon. And of course the hat couldn't be refrigerator white. I, however, had an inclination for 'mismatch'. And as is inevitable, I grew up and had my way. I truly think I was the first ‘on purpose’ mismatched person.

No, but of course there were others rebelling, secretly or out loud; against their mothers wishes that everything match. Spring brings all of this to mind as now everything is unveiled and begins to show. Everything hidden, mismatched under sweaters and coats and jackets and vests now show, and guess what? It just doesn't matter!

My mother would say, “You look like a ragamuffin”. And I took a liking to the word. Years later I was in The Netherlands and my two daughters were very small.
A children's clothing line emerged - Oilily.

And nothing matched! There were flower print tunics with striped leggings and polka dot socks, all in most beautiful similar color threads or even different colors! You can mix unlikely colors if you do it artfully. And that is a lesson that I think would be presented at my writers retreat. Mixing colors! (More on that later).

Even before I found this company existed I tended to dress my two daughters like ragamuffins but Oilily made it much easier. They got pricier and pricier and then it became very trendy to dress your children in Oilily. By that time my daughters were grown and desiring I think, to present themselves like others, blending ~ the years of Esprit! And of course they had to have Cavaricci jeans.
The first to my recollection of stupidly expensive jeans.

Jeans, an American tradition had crossed the Atlantic, and came back to bite us. Mom Levi's? Oh please, no, no Wranglers. And mom, when you come to the PTA meetings couldn't you dress a little more like the other mothers? I tried a little but I could never pull it off. Sometimes in an interview they would ask, “ how do you define your style of dress? “ And I would answer ‘ragamuffin” or 'like a comfy couch with mismatched throw pillows and a red ottoman.” I'm convinced that red goes with everything, even orange. Sorry mom, ragamuffin it is, was, and most likely always will be.

So spring begins!
Let show your stripes, flowers and polka dots.
Even Jellybean colors and Yum Yum umbrellas!

And I'm turning into Dr Seuss
Can you stand it? The urge toward life, and at my age too…
;-)