Big Floweredy Dresses

My sister and I made our first trip to California together, two undeniably Southern women in our fifties, expecting to be swaddled in the messages that we remembered as teens from the 1960’s.

My sister couldn’t wait to mingle with the hippies that she was certain would be evident on every block in Berkeley. She says she saw them – but I saw linen, khaki, shoes you wear to walk to work, people with the good sense to dress comfortably.
The two of us, however, were dressed in big floweredy dresses, the kind women our age wear all over the South. I’m talking flowers the size of dinner plates - bright reds, blues, yellows, and oranges, all splashed onto the same wearable canvas. Nothing in Berkeley was blooming as loudly as we were.

In the South, when you see women our age enter a room with bold colors and patterns, it sends a message. Not the same message as “tacky” which requires a sense of style cultivated over a lifetime and a “bless your heart” level of condescension. Just look at the jewelry my mother wears to go to the grocery store.

But, you can expect boldly dressed women to speak up freely and often. At home, at least one woman would have rushed over to me on the street to ask, “Where did you get that beautiful floweredy dress? I’ve been looking for something just like that to wear for jury duty next week.” A middle-aged Southern woman wearing a loud dress would never have a problem being the lone holdout on a hung jury.

The obvious statements I did find in Berkeley were on the T-shirts sold by the street vendors. For months after my return, my husband drove around Greenville, SC, with his souvenir shirt that read, “Born OK the first time.” Lord knows what that man will have to say when I get home after my next trip.