Rhona Canoy SO... In my “younger” years, I was an avid follower of fashion. Not necessarily everything that was current, but what appealed to me, whether it be shoes, clothing, or accessories—in that order. The day I realized that everything sartorial was just wrapping, my interest in fashion turned deeper and more philosophical. Our ancestors first covered themselves mainly to protect their bodies from the elements and the environment. There certainly was no vanity in wearing animal hides because, God help me, that must have stunk to high heaven and came with their own resident critters. I doubt that they would have looked at each other and thought, “Oooh! Foul smell and itching. And unkempt hair… I’m really turned on!” But somewhere along the way, covering evolved into fashion. And humans became slaves to it, and quite willingly, I might add. The circuitous route that it took to arrive at today’s current trends were certainly driven by what we believe would raise the level of attraction in aid of man’s continual search for companionship. Whether prudish, minimal, ostentatious, fashion has served us well. It was the first dividing social line between the haves and the have-nots. Although now the ubiquitous ukay-ukay has leveled that playing field. I’m sure anthropologists and sociologists, and the occasional psychiatrist, have made numerous studies regarding this matter, and I’m also sure that their findings are valid as well as interesting. My current fascination with it was triggered by observing what is now acceptable as dressing for public appearances. I remember in my late teens and early twenties, I used to catch a lot of flak for wearing denim cut-off shorts (and they were short) and crop tank tops to school at Xavier University. I figured they covered all my necessary private parts, so I deemed the objections raised against my clothing mute and academic. Mute because I was deaf to them, and academic because it was the Jesuits who raised the loudest objections. And I’m sure that had something to do with eventually imposing restrictive dress codes. Now I look at how young people dress themselves, in relation to how older folks dress. The differences are certainly blurred. But this is how I see it. We baby boomers (rougly those born after WW2 and the next 25 years hence) were the first to be comfortable with bikinis and crop tops. The males discovered the freedom of short pants, t-shirts and tank tops. I’ve since realized that humans are comfortable wearing what they’re comfortable wearing—regardless of age. So… this means old women who will not hesitate to wear bikinis in old age, if their body confidence level is high, and men who will wear shorts and go shirtless because… well, they’re men. As this current generation ages, they are going to become old ladies who wear short short shorts, sport anime hair, skinny jeans (for both genders), and God knows what. And I suppose the following generations will be comfortable with less and less. In that case, my fascination with fashion will die with me because there will eventually be nothing left to be fascinated by. The sad part is now, after so many years, I am beginning to question whether I dress appropriately for my advanced age. And the way things are going, I guess Adam and Eve got it right, and these days they might even be considered avant garde. Fig leaf, anyone?