Are women better than men at making decisions? The age-old question recently popped up – again- in a New York Times article with Senator Kirsten Gillibrand and several respected female neuroscientists weighing in. The results were an inconclusive “Maybe.” At least that’s how I read them, but I didn’t know that my assumption would soon be tested in a most personal way.
Like many women across America, I found myself faced with the same dilemma just last week while winterizing my closet. I racked my brain over which items of clothing to keep out and which to put away until next spring. Things were going pretty smoothly as sleeveless anythings and knee length pants were marked for that big cedar closet in the sky (aka the attic). Then I decided to check the very back of my closet, a place to boldly go where no woman or man had gone before – well, at least not since 1979, if memory serves and BTW, thank you Star Trek.
The items sequestered there included a pair of polyester bell bottom pants, two pairs of Courreges vinyl boots, a black georgette jumpsuit, olive drab clam-diggers and an off the shoulder peasant blouse which, when worn correctly, revealed one’s bra straps. For my younger readers, or those among you with failing memories, bra strap revelation was a daring 1970s requirement for some “hip” fashionistas — a word, which BTW, postdates the clothing items mentioned above.
Visions of the 1980s came rushing by when I spotted a miniskirt that would get me arrested if I were to wear it today. I remembered pairing it with a cap-sleeved cotton T-shirt that had “Where’s the Beef” emblazoned across the chest. A cardboard box filled with headbands and leg warmers was off to one side, next to my treasured boom box, a gift from my kids. Oh, where did you go, Joan Jett? I still love rock ‘n’ roll.
Relics from earlier decades had been cleaned out long ago, with many of the items going toward making my daughter, Melody, queen of Halloween and elementary school musical productions.
Decision-making time had come. With a deep sigh, I collected all the clothing and stuffed it into a couple of large plastic bags. I hauled the bags outside and left them at the front door. Then I went in and dialed a local charity that welcomes such donations. When a voice answered, I took a deep breath and said “Never mind” in my best Emily Litella voice (loved you, Gilda Radner.) I carried the two bags upstairs, unpacked them and put the contents back.
So the age-old battle of the sexes continues. Decisions, decisions, decisions. As far as I’m concerned, I made the right one.
Copyright 2015 Harriet Posnak Lesser
You May Also Like:
Get Your Knit Together with Affordable Fashions from PureHandKnt
Getting to the Source by Harriet Posnak Lesser
Harriet Posnak Lesser is an award-winning journalist and social satirist whose articles have appeared in Long Island’s The South Shore Record and Nassau Herald, The New York Times, Cracked Magazine and others.