I am working on Que Sera, Sera (aka Book 3, aka Age Appropriate), which should please all my patient readers out there. The first draft of the proposal is done, as is a very rough draft of the introduction. The glaring holes in my research are now clearly and uncomfortably visible, so I am renewing my effort to connect with American women who graduated from high school in 1967. If you want to participate in what I hope will be interesting discussions about your experiences from little girl to today, you can do the following:

Join my Facebook group, The Class of 1967.

Follow my Class on 1967 profile on Instagram.

​Please also share this with your high school classmates! I really want to cast a wide net!

I know, I know. I have complained about repetitive interview questions, but the truth is that is order for people to open their minds and let go of gender stereotypes, those of us who do this work must answer those questions over and over. Besides, every once in a while, we get one of those really fun interviews with someone we can share a laugh with, along with the information.


Last May, I had one of those interviews, with Shankar Vedantam of NPR’s Hidden Brain. We met at my local mall and strolled around the kids department in Macy’s, chatting about pink and blue, pockets/no pockets, and the missing character on the boys’ Star Wars T-shirts. (Can you guess who it was?) It was a double blast because inside I was fangirling like a twelve-year old. Hidden Brain is one of my favorite podcasts: smart, well-paced, and slickly produced like an audio documentary. And Shankar Vedantam is a great interviewer and host; being on his Rolodex was a dream come true.


So enjoy the podcast episode. Bonus: now I know how Lise Eliot (Pink Brain, Blue Brain) pronounces her name.

Thanks to UK retailer John Lewis, I was bombarded with media requests for interviews last week. That's generally a good thing, except it would be incredibly helpful if they didn't ask the same damn questions all the time. (Especially "Why is pink a girl color?" and "What's the problem with stereotypes?")

So this time I thought a few pictures might calm people down.

As recently as thirty years ago, parents had LOTS of choices for their children's clothing and toys. Strongly gendered clothes and toys are not "traditional". Nor are they necessary, until the objective is to multiply your profits by forcing people to buy boy and girl versions of things that could otherwise be handed down or shared. 

So chill. And don't even start with the "slippery slope" arguments. The world isn't about to end if girls wear camouflage or boys wear skirts. If it were, it would have already happened.

This is so exciting! This project took a detour over a year ago as I realized that it would require not only additional research, but also some serious re-thinking of the structure of the book.

You may remember this image:

The original plan was a fairly straight-forward cultural history of clothing for women over fifty, similar to what I had done in Pink and Blue for infants and toddler clothing. But the story would not let itself be told that way.

You see, we don't start "aging" at fifty; childhood, adolescence, young adulthood, middle age are also part of the journey. Learning to be female is not a weekend workshop or even a four-year-degree program. It is a lifelong process of being led into each life stage along a path shaped by cultural beliefs about aging and gender. So I revised the plan.

A Facebook reader sent me this message:

For my earlier posts on the RompHim (TM), see Part 1 and Part 2.

What is the appeal of rompers? The original rompers were designed as playclothes for infants and toddlers as a time when the standard clothing for children under the age of five years was dresses. Like dresses, rompers were one-piece, which was desirable for mothers who believed that children could be "spoiled" by too much handling. Compared with ankle-length skirts worn by young walkers, rompers allowed more freedom of movement. That's fine, but we now have many other options, and we no longer believe that babies are harmed by being handled in the process of getting dressed. But the image of romper as a childish style persisted, and has influenced adult casual wear. ​

Rompers, jumpsuits, overalls and the like all have a few advantages that make them attractive enough to appear in the fashion pages on a regular basis. They also have aesthetic and practical drawbacks that each generation seems destined to rediscover. To begin with the advantages:

The internet seems to be losing its mind over the "RompHim" (TM), the one-piece leisure outfit for men that raised a pile of money on Kickstarter. Because I was in the throes of the usual end-of-the-semester chaos, I have ignored it until now. I am going to do a few posts on the trend, so stay tuned.

Let's start with a little historical perspective. Rompers are not new, and they are not feminine. The romper's 18th century ancestor, the skeleton suit, was exclusively for small boys who were too young for adult clothing and too old for baby dresses. Yes, dresses. Calm down.

The modern romper (sometimes called a creeper) was introduced in the late 19th century as a casual garment for toddlers -- male and female. It remained popular through the 1960s, by which time it was also worn by older children and adults as a leisure style. In other words, for a couple of generations it was unisex, though there were "feminine" and "masculine" variations for folks who wanted a more gendered version.

When gendered clothing became the norm in the 1980s, rompers apparently got sorted into the "feminine " category, according to the same cockamamie logic that made kitties and purple feminine. There is no natural law that determines this; it is a cultural mystery, and it is both arbitrary and negotiable.

So if a guy wants to wear a romper, by any name, it should be no big deal. Simmer down, Internet.

​If you follow social media, you've seen the story about the leggings ban on United Airlines. This Reuters article is the most thorough reporting I have seen on the subject. I will quote from their excellent coverage:

Watts reported what she witnessed -- or thought she witnessed, and social media caught fire.

I have a friend who works in transportation who commented on Facebook that even though he works for a different employer, the same rules apply. Enforcement seems to be left up to someone at the gate, which was part of the problem, not unlike when vague school dress codes are interpreted by teachers and administrators. The issue also seems to have been resolved -- eventually -- so I will confine my comments to generalities, rather than the United situation.

The courts have ruled, over the last forty years or so, that employers are well within their rights in establishing dress codes to enforce a pleasing, uniform appearance, as long as the rules did not prevent a class of people (men, women, African Americans, Muslims) from being able to gain employment. Leisure wear and sloppy or revealing clothing is usually prohibited, though what Americans consider "leisure" is a moving target, and the line between "sloppy" and "casual" is practically invisible at times, and "revealing" -- forget trying to define that, beyond nudity.

In my study of dress code litigation in the 1960s and 70s, I found that the authorities usually argued that conformity and submission to rules was especially necessary for boys and young men. Girls’ dress codes, in contrast, placed a premium on modesty. The rhetoric in the dress codes reinforced this distinction.  Boys’ regulations were more likely to mention “conventional” standards; girls' restrictions were more likely to mention "revealing" styles or parts of the body that should be covered. Not much has changed since then; men and women are still expected to abide by gender rules that are very different. The rules for women dictate careful management of an image balanced between girlish/ladylike and seductive. For men, there is very little space or place for sexual display, or even individual expression. Instead, boys and men are trained to operate with a very limited visual range. 

Recently, I have been asked if leggings are pants. (Sort of, but some of them function more like a combination of stockings and foundation garments.) I have also been asked if they are going to go out of style. (Most likely; doesn't everything?) I know some school administrators and parents who will be very relieved when they do. Until they see the Next Big Thing.