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Jayne Dawson: The voice of reason
MOST people now know that there is a certain high-pitched noise that only youngsters under the age of 21 can hear.
Over the last few years it has been incorporated into a device – cleverly or outrageously depending on your point of view – to drive young people away from shopping centres where they would otherwise congregate in hormonal teenage huddles. The Mosquito, it is called.
What is less known, however, is that there is a middle-aged equivalent of this noise – except that this one can only be heard by women.
It's a voice in the head that no woman under the age of 40 can hear, but once she hits that birthday it suddenly appears, all complete and fully-formed, and it says: "Never wear a fashion if you remember it from the first time round, never wear a fashion if you remember it from the first time round." Just that. Over and over.
Naturally, I have yet to hear it myself – but my mother has told me about it...
And just as with teenagers, this voice only ever attacks in shopping centres. Like me, you might not yet have heard it yourself but you will recognise the women who have because they are the ones walking around with a haunted look.
Occasionally, you will even see them trying to examine a piece of inappropriate clothing while simultaneously holding their hands over their ears to block out the sound. It's a painful sight.
In January this middle-aged version of The Mosquito, which I shall now term The Voice, actually gets louder because there are so many opportunities to give in to temp-tation and break the rule. So many cheap clothes all piled up and just there for the grabbing.
There are lovely leggings that remind us of the Eighties when we weighed two stones less and could put a good Madonna look together, there are shoulder pads that remind us of when our hair was big and luxuriant to balance out our wide jackets and contrast with our little waists, there are huge platform shoes to remind us of nights out as a single girl, fuelled by booze and adrenalin. Okay, I'm admitting it. I hear The Voice.
It must be obeyed, but it's hard, so very hard, especially if like me you are a person of a particular shallow-ness of mind.
This shallowness manifests itself in the form of always noticing clothes. I can't help it, I was born that way.
Most people remember their favourite toys – I remember my favourite frocks.
Most people's infant school news books were full of cute descriptions of their weekend activities, or their pets, or their friends, Mine, I know since I saw them recently, featured detailed descriptions of what everyone was wearing.
I even studied labels, not to discover the name of the designer – a concept unknown – but to see where things were made.
"I put on my American underskirt with my blue dress on top. It has bell sleeves." Me, aged six.
I loved it, unlike the one with the red-spotted collar, because that one used to remind me of tomato ketchup and made me feel sick. There was a big fight every time my mother tried to stick it over my head.
Honestly, my school books were full of this stuff. I only deviated from my crusade to tell all my teachers all about my clothes to tell them all about all the rows at home. ("My mummy said you're not going out but my daddy did go out. When my mummy was upstairs she said I hate your daddy." Me, still aged six.)
So it's impossible for me to listen to The Voice, to pass by all fashions I can remember the first time around, because I can remember them all.
Sad to say, I can even measure out the important milestones of my life in clothes: my first teenage party – my mum's shoes, my cousin's skirt and waistcoat; the evening my waters broke (just to be clear, many years later) – pink spotted maternity dress; the morning I brought my first child home – burgundy coat dress; I day I got married – just kidding, I'm guessing it's normal to remember that one.
But it's not just my clothes. Not that long ago someone asked me at what age my now completely grown-up children were out of nappies, and the truth was it came as a bit of a surprise to be told that they hadn't been born fully house-trained.
The details have all slipped right out of my brain, but I remember the cord trousers my toddler son used to wear, the little stripy all-in-ones my daughter used to crawl around in. I remember the feel of my children encased in those fabrics as if it were just an hour ago.
Meanwhile my wardrobe is becoming a scrapbook of my life. I have a pair of shoes bought just because they reminded me of the shoes my mum used to wear when she was all dressed up, I have a summer dress that reminds me of one I wore years ago which was considered so cool back then strangers used to stop me and ask where I had bought it (a shop called Snob was the answer). I have a lurex cardigan bought simply because I had some exciting nights out in a much earlier model.
All of these outrage The Voice but, just so you know, I haven't succumbed to the padded shoulders yet, although I suspect it's only a matter of time. As for the leggings, I'm wearing them constantly – but this time under my trousers for extra insulation against the winter weather.
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Weather for Leeds
Thursday 24 May 2012
Today
Sunny spells
Temperature: 10 C to 25 C
Wind Speed: 12 mph
Wind direction: North east
Tomorrow
Sunny
Temperature: 9 C to 21 C
Wind Speed: 16 mph
Wind direction: East
