"We Mourn In Black" - William Shakespeare

In our all-public-all-the-time world, most people's feelings seem to end up on the internet, laid out for everyone to see. When a loved one dies, it's no different. Mourning pours out into the digital world. Facebook profiles of our departed have become places to mourn - statements on how much a loved one is missed, wishing them good holidays. While this may be helpful for some, I have heard from others how jarring it is to see their dearly departed show up in their feed.

Mourning is tricky. It's both deeply personal and public. Death doesn't happen in a vacuum and it effects everything around the mourner. Our lives are increasingly divested of rituals and formalized practices, allowing people to embrace that which is the most appropriate for them, but it can also leave us adrift. How do we mourn?

Different cultures and religions have different customs and they vary wildly. The tradition of plain, black attire began during the Roman Empire and has continued through most of western civilization with some exceptions. Medieval European queens mourned in white, a tradition that several recent royals have maintained. White is also found as the color of mourning in India, though other Asian cultures, such as the Japanese, may wear black.

Religions also have different mandates and suggestions for mourners, from a few days to months. Judaism allows seven days for the truly deep mourning, a period known as Shiva, and then a longer, lesser state of mourning to follow. As someone raised in a religion without dedicated mourning rituals, I have always found the practice to be incredibly considerate.

Queen Victoria in mourning.

The height of ritualistic mourning occurred during the Victorian Era, when Her Majesty, Queen Victoria, led the charge with deep, lifelong mourning after the loss of her beloved Prince Albert. There were prescribed timelines for mourning based on how close the departed was and rules, many rules on how to do it properly. After a period of time, the mourner phased into half-mourning and then eventually could return to life.

While the strict rules on how long to mourn for your cousin seem stifling in an era when not everyone even wears black to a funeral, wouldn't it be nice to be free from thinking about it? To have all the rules and practices laid out for you? To know, with certainty, that people won't expect you to be social, since it would be unseemly, and you can curl up and grieve until you're ready to move on?

I recently read the Huffington Post piece on bringing back mourning clothes. The points made are logical - mourning clothes send a clear signal to the rest of society that you are grieving. You don't have to say it. You don't have to announce to the world that you're in pain and might not be functioning to your highest level. It's presented in your attire and allows others to respond accordingly.

We are an instant gratification culture. Amazon delivers in two days, baby pictures are posted minutes after the child draws first breath, and nearly anything you could want can be purchased on credit without saving for it. It makes sense that we would expect to grieve at the same rate, but grief doesn't work like that. It's too deep, too personal, too life altering to just vanish when society expects you to rebound. Everyone grieves at a different rate and in different ways, but having the social space and distance to grieve would be nice. If dressing in black from head-to-toe signified to those around you that you need that space...how much easier would that be for the mourner?

In response to losing a dear friend, I became first productive, contacting people who didn't know, comforting friends from a distance. After I ran out of things to do, the tears came. Eventually, they stopped, and I felt empty, hollow. Wrung out. In response to prodding, I agreed to go out with friends, be among people, but deciding what to wear proved more than my numb self could manage. So I wore black, which I normally avoid (harsh against a fair complexion). I didn't have to think about it - I was in mourning, it was appropriate. Most friends took it as a sign and were sufficiently distracting, though one particularly crass individual remarked on their personal distaste for the departed. Realizing I was opening myself up to hearing from those who didn't like my dear friend and that it made me a target for their opinion sent me into hiding. I kept my mourning entirely private, confined to my own space, tucking it away every time I had to leave the house. Society told me to move on, so I pretended I had. To this day, I have no truly mourned the loss.

To bring back some formal points of mourning, including a societal understanding of the importance of it, would allow people the time to truly process their loss. I am not for the required times - it's not always appropriate and becomes a show in those cases, but to recognize the donning of black as a sign of grief that all the world understands without having to say it, over and over, would be a good step. This would demand, of course, a societal respect for the needs of others, for understanding the subtle social cues of grief, for us not to judge based on how we mourn, but try to empathize with their personal struggle. Those are hard things, but they are the marks of a lady or a gentleman.

It also requires that black not be the uniform of a New Yorker, but that's another post entirely.

Summer is Coming

Classy suit, great hat.
This is an elegant summer look.

Ah, summer. Warm weather, beaches, cookouts...it's the time of year when hemlines get shorter and outdoor living becomes the way of life. In many ways, it's easier to be elegant in the spring and fall, when light layers help avoid any potential embarrassing wardrobe malfunctions. And can I take a moment to say how much I love that "wardrobe malfunction" is now part of the common parlance?

Summer leads to a lot of potential struggles for someone striving for elegance. It's hot outside, in many places humid, and it's socially acceptable to walk around in a lot less clothing than might be entirely appropriate. So, how do we get through summer without looking like a wilted flower? Much like other difficult weather situations, the key to the heat is planning. So let's begin!

First, know what your summer needs are. If you work in an office, you have a similar challenge to winter - starkly different temperatures between inside and out. Cardigans and light jackets are your friend and it might be worth keeping a neutral colored one at the office. It also turns a sundress into office appropriate wear very easily. For women, dresses with good structure are cooler than slacks for office wear. For men, consider some lighter fabrics such a cotton and linen to keep the moisture off - and never forget to wear an undershirt. If you're the kind to sweat, keep a clean shirt in the office for especially difficult days.

Open toes shoes are common for both men and women during the summer, and nearly always appropriate (peep toes can always replace pumps unless you're wearing stockings). If you're going to wear sandals, please take a moment and attend to your feet. Dry, cracked heels are common from winter, but incredibly unpleasant to look at. Either get a pedicure (men, I'm looking at you) or do it yourself with some hot water, Epsom salts, and a pumice stone. A lot of lotion throughout the summer will keep them from getting gnarly again before it's back to socks and boots.

Speaking of foot care, skin care in general is important when more of it showing. Sunscreen is always important during the summer, even when you're not at the beach, ballpark, or pool. Wear it everyday, year round, but especially when the UV is high. I use a spray on my body and Neutrogena's Ultra Sheer Dry Touch on my face as it won't get greasy. A tip for women - if you're wearing sunscreen, make sure it's fully absorbed before applying makeup or it will leave funny white streaks on your face. I've been there, it's not attractive. Additionally, hats are a fabulous way to keep the sun off.

Ladies with long hair, summer can be misery. Know your hair and how it reacts to humidity if that's a problem in your area. Become friends with various hair styles that are off your neck without being a ponytail. Not only is it cooler, but a nice chignon or twist classes up a more casual wardrobe. If you normally straighten your hair, pinning it up and away from your face will allow you to skip the flatiron and give your hair a rest, without worrying that it will curl up once you step outside. My favorite is the Gibson Tuck as demonstrated by The Freckled Fox.

Light layers, natural fabrics, and some preparation go a long way. Personally, my favorite summer accessory is a hand fan. I carry one in my purse and it makes a big difference in stuffy places. Old fashioned, yes, but incredibly practical...and really pretty!

The Evils of Tipping (and why you should do it anyway)

I have been remiss in posting but I am prepared to resume with something resembling frequency. I like schedule and regularity of things (every Thursday this, every second Saturday that), but part of aging is the acceptance that there is only so much we can actually control, and the best we can do is to keep our word when it is given, and give it only when it can be kept. How very grown up.

In sorting through some of my saved articles from my various feeds (I use feedly since Google Reader expired), I found this from 6 months ago. I know I kept it for a reason, and clearly, it is this.The original article, which can be found in the Andrew Sullivan snippet, goes into more depth about why white men were hired to be flight attendants rather than black men, who were the logical extension given their position working on trains and ships, but we are interested in the focus of the article - why we don't tip flight attendants.

Tipping, a practice which is basic good manners in America now and has been for quite a long time, makes certain assumptions regarding both the customer and the employee. The article explains that we don't tip flight attendants, since they were traditionally white men and to tip them would be to belittle them - to put them on the same level as the black porters of trains and ships, effectively.

I actually don't find tipping to be a very favorable practice, as it indicates that the employers are not paying their employees enough, and that the employee therefore must rely on your largess. It also has the class indications mentioned in the article. In general, I find it a ghastly custom.

That said, it is custom. Those employees who are in businesses where a tip is customary, especially in the restaurant business, are often underpaid precisely because they are expected to receive tips. Some restaurants don't allow them, with Sushi Yasuda in NYC leaving the following note on their receipts where tipping normally would be:

“Following the custom in Japan, Sushi Yasuda’s service staff are fully compensated by their salary. Therefore gratuities are not accepted. Thank you.”

It would be nice, wouldn't it, if we could be assured that all companies were ensuring the well-being of their employees rather than expecting it from the customer? In the meantime, tipping remains the norm for the United States, so do it well. 18-20% of bill may seem a lot, but it is usually the bread and butter of a waiter's salary, not to mention the busboys and unseen staff that are also partially compensated by tips. If service is poor, do not just leave nothing. They have no way to know if you were dissatisfied or just rude. If there's a problem, address it immediately with the waiter and/or management so it can be fixed and you can enjoy your meal. One of my dearest friends was a waiter for over 15 years and he insists that every manager would prefer a customer who draws attention to problems and gives the restaurant a chance to correct themselves rather than leave unhappy, tell your friends, and never return.

Summation: Wouldn't it be nice if tipping weren't necessary? As long as it is, be generous and kind, even if that means drawing (discrete) attention to a problem at hand.

Update: While continuing to sift through saved articles, I found this examination of the procedure from the New York Times. Take a look, it's an excellent dissection.