Grey skies; flashing back

Rain in the forecast, though the temps are still in the mid-70s. Not too bad, but my mood matches the clouds. I need a pick-me-up. Not sure what, but I'll come up with something.

The cool nights make the hot tub wonderful. The perfect way to end the day.

It's Red Ribbon week in the schools here. So Maddie and Sylvia have theme days every day: Spirit Day. Twin Day. Crazy Socks Day. Monday was '80s Day for Maddie. She found me Sunday evening and said we had to plan her outfit.

The 1980s, the years when I came of age. I know that the 80s encompass 10 years, but when I think of that decade, I think of high school. Those are the fashions that stand out for me: plaid skirts, knee socks, monogrammed crew neck sweaters. The "preppy look," penny loafers and topsiders, straight leg jeans.

I described several looks to Maddie, then she and I pored over my high school yearbooks — a trip down memory lane that, frankly, I could do without. (Not that high school was wretched; just that I've moved on. Way on.) Maddie giggled but was amused by photographic evidence that teenagers did, in fact, dress the way I said.

She was also fascinated by the lengthy ramblings from my friends and classmates "Why do they write so much? Who takes up the entire back page?" And why did one friend (whose identity I'll protect) draw a unicorn next to her name?

So, based on her preferences, she and I put together quite an ensemble: black & white houndstooth skirt (the closest we could come to a plaid skirt that would fit her), knee socks, penny loafers (actual vintage shoes, Bass Weejuns, circa 1982), black hair bow (also vintage 1980s, purchased at Harrod's in London, 1986), pearls, and the piéce de resistánce: a grey crewneck sweater, monogrammed in burgundy — another vintage piece, monogramming courtesy of Anne Johnson, Tammy's mother.

Wish I could have found the little IZOD earrings and barrette set, but apparently I no longer have those. Which begs the question: Why have I held onto any of this stuff? I have a handful of sweaters and dresses, beloved items from high school and college, clothes that I will never, ever wear again. Let's face it, even if I could cram myself into those things, why am I keeping them? Penny loafers? The dress I wore to my high school graduation? Several vintage dresses (from the 60s, purchased at thrift shops) that I used to wear to go out in college. A sweater that Gary gave me when we were dating; sadly, I no longer have the complementary jeans, that had a giant floral pattern on them — they were all the rage ... albeit briefly.

The answer, of course, is to help my daughters when they have to dress for such an occasion. They will be quite authentic when they need to look like a 20-year-old vision of their mother.

Monday morning arrived. Maddie had laid out everything, tried on the entire combination Sunday night. She looked adorable. She came downstairs at 6, wrapped in a blanket, and said she didn't want to wear the outfit.

No worries, I reassured her. I told her to wear only the pieces she wanted to. She chose the pearls and the hair bow, wore her own jeans and shirt. She said she wasn't sure anyone else would be totally decked out.

I suspect she's right. She was happy enough with her hair bow and her faux pearls (also vintage 80s). Teachers were way too into it, she reported, reliving their glory days — I guess they're old like me.

Sometimes it's fun for me to go back, look at where I was 20, 25 years ago. Mostly, though, I need to live in the present. My life now is not about what I was like as a teenager — even though those experiences contributed to making me the adult I am. My focus now is on where I am now. Today. It takes way too much energy to worry about what happened way back when; I have to concentrate on the present.

Grey skies overhead. They'll clear up soon.