By Bonni Brodnick When I was growing up, there was a strict seasonal dress code for boys and girls. Undershirts, layer number one, and turtlenecks, layer number two, were de rigueur winter- wear. If you didn’t have a turtleneck, a dickey sufficed. An itchy wool sweater made for toasty layer number three. We wore thick, pilled tights under corduroy pants in winter and stiff new blue jeans in spring. There was no white after Labor Day, and anyone who wore sneakers in the winter was considered completely déclassé. Jumping ahead three decades or so, and I now have two teenagers. They ask for only three things (okay, four, if you count the latest iPod): blue jeans, sneakers and polo shirts. They ask for these winter, spring, summer and fall. For my 17-year old son, the blue jeans have to be two sizes bigger than his waist so that they look like they will literally slip off should he bend down to pick up something (which would be a miracle, especially if he did this in his bedroom). On the o...
A Blurb-ologist's Perspective