Please note: While Karen Rinehart was otherwise disposed this week after foot surgery, her daughter Melanie filled in for her. Karen will return as soon as she’s off pain medications…or before…no one really knows.
My mother can dress fashionably. She really can, and she does so almost every day. What lurks in the back of her closet though, tells a different story. I had what you may call the luck, or horrible, terrible chance to be chosen to clean it out. My mission: To clear out all clothes I deemed too ghastly to be seen in public again.
After cranking up my iPod set on the playlist, “Engage Forces,” I cautiously opened the door to the closet, expecting an avalanche of clothing to crush me under it’s weight. Oh, wait, that’s just a habit from opening my closet in the mornings. Silly, silly me.
As I started going through her hanging clothing, I picked up a lacy shirt that surely was a curtain in another life. With a flick of my wrist, I tossed the “shirt” and promptly started the Give Away pile. As I went through the hangers bearing clothing, the lacy shirt was joined by friends with whom it had co-existed in my mother’s closet for years.
I showed no mercy towards the clothing; anything I would never, ever want my mother wearing was tossed. As I finished cleaning, I noticed the song I was listening to was, ironically, titled “Throwaway.” It may have been a coincidence, or not.
I summoned my mother to show her the results. Her face dropped when she saw the size of the Give Away Pile. She picked up a tank top and said, “But, Melanie, this is cute!” I raised an eyebrow. “No, mother. No.” My mom’s eyes took on a pleading look as she clutched the coveted clothing item to her chest. “But it’s cruise wear!” More eyebrow raising. “I’ll only wear it out on nights you’re not there! Please? Can I keep it? Puh-leeeeese?” She was starting to sound like me.
“Fine. Wear it only on those terms, though, or Ms. Tank will be walking the plank.” The top was replaced in its original hanging spot with a giggle of happiness that one could mistake for a giddy schoolgirl. With a questioning look, my mom picked up another shirt from the pile. “Mother, do you wish to blind the nice people at the Creamery when they debut your Bus Stop Mommy Ice Cream?”
Giving a sigh worthy of a teenage girl, she tossed it back into the pile. A skirt was held up, and I commented, “The Fashion Police will put you on the Wanted List. Seriously, Mom, do you trust my fashion judgement?”
“Yes…”
“Well, then, please don’t question my expertise.” I had to exercise my authority. I am too good a daughter to let my mother commit crimes of fashion that might scar me for life. Note to my fellow teenage girls — I’m available for hire.
Karen Rinehart is a syndicated newspaper columnist, public speaker, and creator of The Bus Stop Mommies™. Her book, Invisible Underwear, Bus Stop Mommies and Other Things True To Life, is a popular read in book clubs, school pick up lines, and soccer fields. She enjoys hearing from readers across the States and as far away as Australia, Japan, and England. You can read more at BusStopMommies.com. Karen lives in North Carolina with her two kids, two dogs, and one husband, where they attend St. James Catholic Church. (Well, they leave the dogs at home.)
