My mom was the neat as a pin type, but yet prone to those stains and would become mortified when she realized she had spilled something or her appearance was not perfect. She would get up before anyone else in the morning, making sure she was just as she chose to be in the mirror before anyone else would even see her. I never saw her with a gray hair, until I showed up at the hospital at the end and seen the gray hair. I would laugh thinking it was silly, and I am definitely not the one that worries about it. I put myself together, check it out and I guess somewhere in my thinking I just figure that image stays regardless, when it doesn’t at times.  But in the final hours of her life, I found that part of herself in me, for her, worrying about her appearance and what she would be thinking. Not being able to even find a comb in a room of machines, I demanded someone bring one in, and I was the one combing her hair through a lot of tears, adjusting her hospital gown and checking for the visible stains while others just looked at me in disbelief knowing it was over and why should I care. No longer was it silly, just helping mom be mom a little bit longer. Somewhere in all the chaos, I knew she would be breathing easier and feel perfect again. At the end of the day I am still me, and when I catch notice of a little blunder that was seen by others, I just laugh figuring somebody else probably had a little laugh also.

My husband and I recently attended a wedding event in a distant city. While the wedding only lasted about 15 minutes, the party lasted nearly two days and 3 meals with multiple courses over the hours.

When we were returning home we stopped at a small roadside shop to get something to drink. On the way back to the car my husband turned to me and asked:

"Who are you and what have you done with my wife?"

Turns out, he has never known me not to spill, drop, or dribble something on my blouse.

I know your bemusement.

My grandmother used to call certain items of clothing in her closet her "bad luck"outfits. Whenever she wore a particular tan rayon blouse, there was certain to be a bit of tea that dribbled from the side of the cup and landed smack on the bodice where everyone could see it; there was a blue dress that never failed to attract a bit of gravy that leapt off her fork! There was a light green skirt that always grabbed something sticky - perhaps one of the lollipops a careless granddaughter had left on the lawn chair where she "took the sun" every warm day in summer. So she just gave in, and resigned herself to wearing her bad luck clothes with a certain amount of insouciance, knowing that disaster was sure to strike, but who cared?

Her technique for dealing with the certain stains was ingenious. She had a collection of big brooches, silk flower pins and dainty embroidered hankies, and these items were strategically pinned right over the stain no matter where it was. Occasionally, she reached heights of chic, occasionally she reached comic depths, but she always carried it off.

Perhaps that’s why I wear so many brooches, and why I can’t resist a silk flower! There’s a dribble-factor that may well be genetic, and I, too have my bad luck outfits. And they usually end up fully adorned, sometimes in ways that are, shall we say, somewhat "original"?

(But let’s face it: though one may end up with a stain, the memory of that wonderful wine shared with a dear friend, the thought of those luscious pastries filled with raspberries and creme anglaise, the fun of that ear of corn dripping with butter makes a little blot on a garment seem relatively small, eh?)

 I wear white––on top––black bottoms––most of the time and most of the time I get blobs of this or specks of that when I eat because I do not eat like a lady, I eat like a starved refugee with gusto and rapidity. My husband says, "Phyllis, for gosh sakes, put on an apron!" But I hate aprons, so when something squirts out and lands on my top, I jump up quickly, run to the sink, and scrub it out, then sit back down with a large wet spot and unless it’s summer, I shiver as I finish my meal. If, on the other hand, I was wearing one of Shelia’s silk or rayon blouses that would mean I was out and about and when out and about I become the lady I am not at home and so never get spots unless someone with a shaky hand while pouring wine dribbles some down my front, which then, still acting with decorum, I smile, say, "Don’t worry about it, but if it doesn’t come out I’ll send you a bill," all the while smiling so he/she thinks I’m kidding, but I’m not, although truth be told that has never happened except once a waiter, being too hasty in his placement of a side dish, let it slip from his hands onto my lap which luckily had a large napkin spread over it, but this act was so embarrassing for him, he felt so bad that  I had to comfort him for the rest of the meal. 

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I have a blouse in every color that is stained.  I have come to accept myself as a slob.  I figured so be it, it is what it is.

The brooch coverage is a good idea. It seems there are many of us in the stain club. ;)

My mom and aunts had this saying, " Navy blue. Attracts everything but men and money."  I agree and usually avoid it.

My problem isn’t just with white.  When I am dining alone, I am also usually reading something and not paying much attention to the food. So, it’s no surprise when I later notice a small piece of lettuce or a bit of ham sandwich taking a ride on my top.  I remember President Obama’s assistants carrried those little Tide pens on the campaign trail.  Maybe that should be my next investment as well.

"… or a bra strap that peeks out and even your best friends won’t tell you."

Ah, the Wowowow generation is showing.  These days, young women intend to show not only their bra straps, but even the bra (and don’t get me started on thongs… the "whale tail" phenomenon… tacky!). I eagerly await the swing of the fashion pendulum back to a more discreet era…

As for the stain thing, I like dark multicolor prints for that reason.  Was SO disappointed when the army switched from the old black-brown-dark green camo uniform to the new light green-gray "digital" prints.  My very first thought:  "This isn’t going to hide stains!"