Stripes

     Tigers have stripes. Zebras have stripes. Flags have stripes. These are all signs pointing to the affirmation that God wants us to have stripes, too.
     Well. Maybe that is stretching the point a little. All I really know is that I need stripes in my life. No, I am not planning on getting tattoos of stripes on my body but I do love my stripes. On clothes, that is. But let me make my selection clear: not true animal stripes. Although those are lovely to look at on the animal, in my opinion, humans shouldn't wear animal stripes or any other animal prints.
     If you were to look in my closet, I have striped tops in just about every color. My eyes are drawn to them in catalogs and if I try on a garment in the store and something is just not right, my first thought always is,"Wouldn't this look cute if it was striped?" A year or so ago I purchased a grey and white colored striped "French Terry" top from LL Bean. I liked it so much I immediately bought a blue and white stripe and a red and white striped one. I have a sapphire blue and white striped hoodie, and an orange and creme, wide-striped tee shirt. I have a pullover that is dark grey with tiny black stripes and a tee shirt that has equal width black and grey stripes. You get the picture.
     For most of my adult life I have loved and bought striped pieces of clothing. I must admit; there have been some mistakes (like the primary colored vertical striped jumpsuit I bought in the 80's that was sooo cute. What was I thinking?) I have always bucked the age-old wisdom that horizontal stripes make you look fatter. Solid colors, preferably black, makes people look thinner. Posh. I have never been rail thin anyway, and I soon came to realize that one should wear what makes one feel good (within reason, that is). Wearing black all the time would just depress me. I know people who wear nothing but brown, taupe and grey. Blah. Blah. At least if you're going to wear a solid color, let it be a color with depth or brightness.
     When my daughter got old enough to choose her clothes (which she did from a fairly young age) she decided that I shouldn't wear stripes. They made me look heavier (how nice of her not to use the word fat? I brought her up right!) Just not the right choice. Patterns and prints were fine, just not stripes. Of course, being older and wiser, I ignored her. She would shake her head as if to say, "I try. she won't listen. What are you gonna do?" "But Jen," I would say, "I like stripes, and I am heavier. No amount of black or un-striped clothing is going to change that."
     This little battle went on for years.
     A couple of months ago, she and her husband came over one Saturday for dinner. I noticed. I didn't say anything. Finally, with a big grin on her face she asked me, "Aren't you going to say anything about my new top? I thought sure you'd give me all kinds of grief about it!"
     I just smiled. "It's cute on you."
     It was striped.