so familiar...

There was a "pantihose and pearls" mentality in my FOO.
You never, ever went to the doc unless you showered, shaved, curled your hair, put on the P&P, then went to the doc...didn't matter if you were hemorrhaging from a deep cut, weak from the effects of food poisoning, or anything else that required medical help...

Oh, and the P&P was expected if you were taking out the garbage..."what will the neighbor's think?"
Attending The Church Of Never-Ending Guilt required even more extremes. Those little white lacy caps kept on your head by 15,000 bobby pins that had been used the night before in making your curls pretty and giving you one helluva nasty headache...

Now? Barefoot (not pregnant, though) jeans, cutoffs, used to be a halter top until the girls fell out the sides, now it's t-shirts...or the well worn bits of fabric that used to be a fancy lounger.

In Peace, Outta the Pearls