Style Points

I have a friend who is a retired general surgeon. He's around 93 years old and still lives by himself in his home. His wife passed several years ago after a miserable go with Alzheimer's; his daughter is an ailing woman who lives at some distance away. I'm sure he probably has days he'd rather not still be around but he doesn't feel sorry for himself. He shows up at the hospital most days. He'll sit in the lounge, read the paper, and stay current with hospital politics, the changing healthcare environment, Michigan football, and, until just a couple of weeks ago, Tigers baseball.

When I was single I used to have him over for dinner several times a year but I've fallen off since being married and having the demand of a toddler in the house. Knowing he's a steak and potatoes kind-a-guy, though, I took over a dinner for him the other night of boiled redskins and medium rare top-sirloin.

The remarkable thing is that the man is still teaching at 93. Even when dropped-in on virtually unannounced. Even when only seen for 5 minutes.

He met me at the door dressed for the day-- even at a quarter to seven on a Sunday evening. His well laundered and pressed shirt featured a large collar and broad stripes not unlike one I had in 1977. Over top he wore a tidy lightweight v-neck sweater that coordinated perfectly with his shirt and poly-knit slacks. A pair of slip-on loafers completed the look. I thank goodness I had on a pressed shirt myself or I would have felt wholly inappropriate in my faded blue jeans. Almost twice my age and now living on a fixed income and limited means, in an outfit than could only be reproduced in a costuming department, he made an irrefutable statement about the importance of presentation; the importance of caring about how one holds and presents oneself.

Looking around at airports, supermarkets, doctors offices, and shopping malls, I can only wonder about the wardrobe of the typical 90 year-old 35 years from now. The good news for the industries involved in outfitting the coming tsunami of elderly Americans is that, form all appearances, expectations will be low. Perhaps there is an opportunity waiting for the industrious individual who will create a line of senior attire. Rather than fuss with maintaining a concern for well-fitting neatly coordinated slacks and tops, our fashion entrepreneur of the future will make a fortune marketing elastic waisted pajama pants, beer or sports logo tee-shirts, and flip-flops or velcro slides. Unisex, of course.