Husband jogs fashion memories

Walked in the house the other day with my newest purchase from the department store, ready to show it off to my other half.

“I’ll get a lot of use out of this outfit this winter,” I said proudly holding it up for what I knew would be his enthusiastic response. Granted, I had a sip of wine before I brought it out of the fancy bag and for a senior moment thought I was showing my purchase to one of our daughters.

“I can wear it to church, out to dinner, shopping — it will be perfect for just about everywhere,” I said.

“It’s a jogging suit,” he said.

That statement took me back to the 1980s when the so-called fashionable jogging suit first invaded America. I still remember the first time I saw one. A little old gray-haired woman was wearing this passionate purple jogging suit while changing the oil in her Trans Am.

I bought one in bright pink a short time later but never wore it outdoors except to take out the garbage. That jogging suit made me feel as if I was wearing my pajamas. Unlike today when men and women are seen wearing this attire on a daily basis at Walmart and other public places, pajamas were relegated to the bedroom or the living room couch on a sick day.

Even back then, I had a sense that the jogging suit was destined to become a respected fashion icon in my life. After all, no tight waistband; no binding in the derrière; just simple, forgiving but stylish comfort.

“This is not a jogging suit,” I replied to my spouse while feeling the luxurious silk collar and cuffs of subtle silver. “This is a viable and suitable piece of clothing that can be worn just about anywhere.

“Except for jogging,” I added. “It’s far too expensive.”

Joyce Ore

Joyce Ore writes delightful stories about life with a dose of humor and sprinkle of nostalgia. Her column appears Saturday in the Tribune.

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