"One evening in early April I was waiting for my ten-year-old twin granddaughters to finish their indoor soccer practice when a girl their age approached me and said,
It was a wet, chilly evening, and I was wearing a London Fog given me thirty years ago by an elderly widow whose deceased husband no longer had to fret about the rain or the cold.
Though I thanked the girl, her comment took me aback.
- Then I looked at the other adults milling around me, and thought, as I often think nowadays, that all of them were dressed like…well, like slobs.
- Several were wearing sweat pants and hoodies, others ragged trousers and rumpled sweaters.
- One woman, a thirty-something mom, wore designer jeans torn artfully at the knees...."
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