Do you know what a real skirt is? It's got a waistband, a zipper, a button or a hook and eye, and is lined. The fabric is twill, wool, gabardine, corduroy, silk, tweed, or taffeta. It has a shape that makes you look better, not worse. It hides your flaws, instead of accentuating them. It's a solid color like navy, gray, black, camel, or red. It's timeless and of excellent quality. It stands the test of time and can be worn with heels or flats. It looks good with a blouse and jacket or a sweater. It can last a lifetime if it's cared for properly. It falls just above or below the knee. It needs to be dry-cleaned and pressed. It's a lady's skirt. And it requires a slip and hose.
Who or what is to blame for this shift in culture and lack of ladylike-ness? We could blame the person who first sported the Chevron-striped yardage in screaming yellow and blue, but it's not really their fault. The problem lies in all the droves of females that decided they too wanted to look like they were wearing butt-hugging flags. Another reason is the "skirts" are so darn cheap that a person who likes such unsophisticated clothing can own 2,400 of them for the price of one really good and nice, womanly skirt. Some might blame it on the desire to be "comfy all the time." You don't want to hear what I have to say about that. Being ladylike was never supposed to be about being comfortable. As soon as we get too comfortable, we lose our manners, our dignity, and our femininity.
Maybe the problem is that as a culture we've become so comfortable with ourselves that we don't even care if it's offensive to others. Part of the joy of dressing well is in showing respect to your fellow men and women while caring enough about the world we live in that we're trying to make it a little more beautiful ourselves. Young people and even older ones have become comfortable in going to the market in PJs and slippers, dirty and un-showered, with filthy hair and a grimy face. Other people do it, right? Kids wear slippers and pajama bottoms to school and teachers teach in front of the classroom in sweat pants. It's become so commonplace to dress so casually that when a person is dressed up like Cary Grant or Doris Day, they get stares and questions. That used to be the expectation, do you realize that? The expectation that a lady didn't leave the house without her hair and makeup done and a pretty skirt and sweater? A gentleman didn't walk out the front door without a coat and tie, slacks and Oxfords, even a hat.
It's now June 6, and summer is here. I hate summer. I really loathe it, mostly because it flares up my chronic health conditions, but also because I hate seeing everyone suddenly without clothing, in their full-on "comfortable" uniform of skin-tight, bottom-revealing shorts, tank tops with bra straps hanging out or better yet, no bra at all, and flip-flops. Warmer temperatures don't require nakedness and impropriety. You can still be cool and even comfortable in linen slacks, a cotton blouse, and pretty sandals.
Something as seemingly small as wearing a slip has the power to create change. At least it has the power to affect change in us individually. Maybe we won't solve all the world's problems by wearing slips with smart suits and dresses, but we'd definitely feel better about who we are and maybe we'd treat ourselves better. That might create a domino effect and give our children higher self-esteem. It could cause some pretty big changes in society if enough women would accept the challenge.