A sense of occasion

I didn't go to mass today, and for that I know I am going to burn in hell. I have my own reasons for not going, but we won't pull at that thread today. But while I was driving to the supermarket to pick up some veg, I was struck by a thought. I was wearing a vest, linen trousers and purple crocs and I could probably tip up in church looking just like that, and no one would bat an eyelid. If I dared do that in Trinidad, not only would I be most likely scorned and whispered about, my mother would give me one of her looks and not speak to me for a considerable length of time.

So obviously this got me thinking about the way people dress over here, and in particular, white people. Now I am by no means making a racist statement. My husband is white, so obviously my extended family is as well. In addition, outside of my circle of black friends (who actually DO all know each other!), all of my friends are white. So I'm just making an observation, and one that has come from, not surprisingly, all of my black friends.

Black people just seem to know how to dress for an occasion. We know when to dress up and when to dress down. Case in point being my little trip to the shops this morning. If I was going to Manchester, I would have put on a decent top and proper shoes. When I'm going to mass, I wear actual trousers and wear lots of v-necked sweaters over polo shirts or long-sleeved shirts. If I'm wearing a skirt, I make sure to wear tights, because even though my gran is dead that doesn't mean I have to bring shame on her by going out bare-legged!

But white people just don't seem to realise that there are some occasions when a tracksuit and a pair of trainers just isn't the accepted dress code. When I graduated from uni, all my black friends looked ace. My friend, The Egan (obviously not her real name) had on this kick-ass red chinese style dress and a pair of gorgeous heels. My mate MJ (actually his real name) wore a suit. I wore a white shirt, black trousers and some black heels. I actually felt as though I'd be underdressed. Um, yeah. Right. When my parents and I got down to the auditorium, I went in to pick up my cap and gown and was just shocked at the mess that greeted me. I saw one girl in jeans and slippers. She was standing with someone I assumed to be a family member, who was wearing a denim mini-skirt and trainers. I saw another girls mother in what I can only describe as hippy/farmer chic, i.e. some sort of flowing gypsy skirt and Birkenstocks.

A few weeks ago, a friend of mine from work had the English reception for his wedding. My first thought was "Need to find the husband's suit and see if it needs dry cleaning." I was discussing it with my mate Skyler (who if you remember, we went to the football with) who was also going to the reception. And he said to me "What? Why're you getting dressed up?" to which I replied "Eh? What're you talking about? What the hell did you plan to wear?" Do you know what this boy had the heart to say to me? "A t-shirt and jeans." Sigh! May the saints in heaven preserve us. I practically had to beg him not to turn up to a wedding reception in the same outfit he planned to wear to the football. It was only when he asked a couple of other guys at the office, that he realised that he'd have to sharpen up his act. Turns out he doesn't even own any nice clothes. So when we went to pick him up, he came downstairs in a shirt I've seen him wear to work many a time. It is his dad's. My victory was sweet while it lasted.

I have luckily been able to beat this aspect of blackness into my husband, however. So at least he knows the drill now, even though he tries to protest. Hopefully, it'll rub off on my in-laws.

Before we got married, my soon to be sister-in-law asked me what she should wear to the wedding. I found this to be a very bizarre question, but I told her "Something dressy would be appropriate." I mean, oh gosh man, yes the wedding was going to be extra small, but you could at least make the effort! My soon to be father-in-law was annoyed that he had to buy new shoes. I found the whole thing baffling. My mother had something specially made and my dad knew he had to wear a suit, but couldn't be arsed to bring one, so I took him to the hire shop we got the groom's and best man's suits from. Odd that my friend who was like my maid of honour, The Princess (this is how she refers to herself. This is just how she is, but we love her anyway. She is Nigerian), never asked me what she should wear and turned up in a wicked bustier and skirt outfit with killer heels...obviously.

Easter Sunday. Big day in the Christian calendar. People get dressed up, churches are filled with heathens and everyone in England stuffs their faces with chocolate. So I put on some of my best and went to church, comme tojours. Imagine my horror, when I had a little look around, and saw someone sat across the aisle, in cargo capri pants and sandals. A lady walked past me in reef sandals and denim three-quarters. A family walked in, with the kids dressed in football shirts and trackie bottoms!! And that really angered me. I mean, you're coming to bloody church, and you can't make a bit of effort?? I understand it was a lovely spring day and you may have plans for after mass, but a little respect...PLEASE!!

Sigh!

Ah well... what can I do? The fact remains that I love getting dressed up. I don't get to do it often enough. Don't get me wrong. I'm no scruff-bag. I own four pairs of jeans, and wear one- one pair doesn't fit, I can't find two and one is dark blue and high-waisted so actually looks like trousers. I don't wear trainers. I like to look 'respectable'. But I LOVE stepping out in my finest. So I guess chances are I'll always be one of the 'fancier' dressed people wherever I go. This is my cross to bear. Oh, it's a hard life.