I Choose a Skirt

A recent Runners' World article, "Skirt Culture", discussed the controversy about skirts and running. Before reading that, I didn't know a controversy existed, although I DO know that some women do and some women don't. Me? I usually choose a skort (a skirt with inner shorts) -- for Mom's sake.

Mom revived worn-out furniture for a living. Antique fainting couches with only shreds of fabric remaining would become plantation worthy under her skillful hands. She doted the same gentle care toward a family's favorite sofa, a dad's recliner and a momma's favorite rocker.

After loading and hauling a piece of furniture to her shop (Mom always said we could "do anything a man can; it just might take us a little longer"), I'd help her hoist the furniture up on saw horses. We'd then take that piece down to just the wood, or sometimes bare wood in which case she'd also sand and refinish the wood as well. She'd then tie springs, add burlap and lots of cotton batting. Finally after taking careful measurements, she'd make patterns using old newspapers, use the patterns to cut fabric, and then sew and staple the fabric atop. I can still hear her special sewing machine start up in its two-tone pitch: mmmm UMMMM. She had a foot-long special needle she used to tie buttons onto the back -- fainting couches had hundreds, it seemed to me. And tying those buttons on was monotonously repetitive.

Though Mom's job was traditionally a male's job, Mom always maintained her feminine side. Instead of a toolbox she carried bags she herself designed to hold her staple gun, hammer, tape measure and other tools. She wore slacks, as her job demanded it; but she wore the slacks with a blouse or sweatshirt with feminine designs. And she wore a tad bit of makeup. She was a female who just happened to love her traditionally-male job; not a female trying to be a male. And she made that distinction quite clear in her mannerisms and dress.

If she could see me run, I'm not sure she'd appreciate my bun completely covered by a cap, and the unisex impression that leaves. She'd be dismayed to know that in extreme heat I let my midriff show by wearing a sports bra sans outer top. But the skort with the outer skirt flapping in the breeze as if displaying the statement, I AM a female who happens to run . . . .She'd be very pleased indeed. She'd know that she did pass one of her values on to me. And that would bring her honor.