I was a junior-high kid in the seventies when "Army-Navy" pants hit the fashion stage. My peers and I descended on the Army Surplus Store scarfing up piles of the dark blue denim pants. I remember modeling my first pair for my dad. They hit low enough on my hips to make Brittney Spears proud, and the super-wide bells extended a good six inches past my feet. I awaited Dad's exclamation of admiration and awe.
He scratched his head. "They're kind of long, aren't they?"
What!? How could he not see the utter coolness? I rolled my eyes and moaned at his lack of fashion sense. "They're supposed to be long, Dad."
Ah, the seventies. Decade of fashion monstrosities. My mom handled it all great. She laughed and took pictures. Stacks of photo albums document our progression through platform shoes with micro-minis to suede vests with long fringe.
The day came when I realized my closet was full of garments I'd probably never wear again, except as costumes. My mom's words came back to haunt me: "If you buy classics, they never go out of style."
Trends. In fashion or in literature, I wonder how much they should dictate our choices. Here at Master's Artist, in Deborah's personal blog, on the Writer's View list, and in other cyber-venues, the discussion is hot: should writers cater to current trends or aim to write with artistic integrity? Do we produce "product" or "art"?
I don't know about you, but I intend to embrace a lesson from my youthful fashion embarrassments. I don't want to write books that are so trend driven they will go out of style in a few years. The "classics" (i.e., artistic, literary works) will always find an appreciative audience. So I'll strive to perfect my art, writing what rings true -- what "fits" -- no matter what the publishing fashionistas are strutting on the runway.
Before long, they'll be tripping on their platform shoes. Let's be ready when they do.