Roanoke Times
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: SUNDAY, September 12, 1993 TAG: 9309100121
SECTION: EXTRA PAGE: 7 EDITION: METRO
SOURCE: Kathleen Wilson
DATELINE: LENGTH: Medium
Used to be you only dug one out to wear with your Catholic school plaid skirt and blue blazer. Or under your choir robes. As part of your waitress uniform.
You know, repressive clothing.
But your mother has been telling you for years that it's a Great Investment.
"You can't have too many white shirts," she's said over and over and over (and over) again.
Guess what?
Mom was right. (Don't you hate when that happens?)
This is the season of the Great White Shirt.
You know it. You secretly love it. You can't live without it. Sure, in concept it's hardly revolutionary. Been around forever.
(Didn't Eve throw on one of Adam's white Van Heusen's after that ugly snake incident in the Garden of Eden, and isn't that why we've been borrowing them from our fathers, brothers, boyfriends and husbands ever since?)
They're everywhere you look. Ruffled poet's blouses. Voluminous shirred cotton batiste peasant blouses. Winged collars framing the face. Razor-sharp pointed collars standing in contrasts to curvaceous lapels on form-fitting jackets.
Donna Karan is showing a trunkful. So are Karl Lagerfeld, Claude Montana and Emanuel Ungaro.
But you'll find them in the Limited and J.C. Penney, too.
Repressive dressing never looked for felt this good.
by CNB