Scarves: A Love/Hate Affair

A scarf can be a year-round versatile accessory.  With so much variation for a single item---silk or cotton or wool, long or short, tasseled or plain, brightly colored, printed, or striped---it can turn the simplest outfit into an ensemble that proclaims personality.  If fashion is based on fantasy, on tales that we tell with our bodies, then a good scarf is a twist in the plot. 

A scarf can allow a woman to project many different personas.  She can be the movie star travelling down a California highway in a convertible, with a perfect strand of designer silk keeping her hair in place.  She can be a perky woodland adventurer, wrapped up and ready to romp through the snow.  She can be a romantic peasant, her paisley scarf draped lightly around her shoulders as she makes her way through fields of flowers.  She can be a pilgrim in India, a sojourner on a desert caravan, or even a photojournalist on safari.  Best of all, she can be all these things in her mind while going to work or school.

Perhaps the best use of a scarf is to permit a woman a touch of color in an otherwise dull business wardrobe.  While a profession might demand a tepid uniform of uninspired jackets, skirts, and slacks, most women in law, business, and academic administration can get away with that touch of color at the throat.  A really interesting scarf might only cost a few dollars (the one I’ve received the most compliments on was $12 at Target), and can take the place of far more expensive jewelry.  It’s a very subtle way to ‘get with the corporate program’ while still subverting it with personal identity.

Scarves can also be very practical.  As we age and grow less fond of our necks, scarves can be secret weapons of misdirection.  I never travel on a plane without a big scarf, to serve as an emergency shawl or even a head wrap. (Yes, that's me in the picture, looking silly and squinting in the sun!  I haven't been to many exotic destinations, but I sure was glad I had a scarf on that trip to Prague.  It saved my life, especially when the climate was not quite what the guidebook claimed....) These decorated bands of fabric make terrific mementos of places; the women I know who do a lot of foreign travel tend to come home with collections of exotic scarves. A great scarf comes with a story attached, whether it’s the story of its origin or the story it allows its wearer to craft in her head.

But there are things I hate about scarves.  Any reader who shares my wool allergy perhaps knows the sadness of admiring something so beautiful that would turn one’s skin into a rash-blemished wonderland in zero point five seconds.  And I’m beginning to believe my neck must be an odd size, because when I wrap the scarf three times it’s too short and twice is too long.  (I’m sure my mother would say I never outgrew my childhood clumsiness---I suspect it has something to do with how I just don’t understand geometry!)  And I will admit that women with either short hair or very long hair have an advantage over those of us with just-below-the-shoulder hair.  My hair always gets tangled and rumpled with a scarf, no matter how careful I am in arranging fabric.

But the worst scarf offense is wearing a sad one.  By that I mean a scarf that has been worn so many times it is ragged, dirty, or just so limp it looks a little like a noose tied around one’s neck.  The same scarf, worn over and over, tied exactly the same way, doesn’t have a fantasy attached.  It just wants to go home and rest for a season.

Working at Wofford is a constant delight in scarf watching.  A number of fellow female faculty members sport this look with terrific flair, especially in the winter.  And our young ladies are quite the fashion plates when it comes to neckwear.  A gentleman in a scarf is a rare sight, though in the last week of classes one of my young men came in with a white and black-checkered wrap around his neck.  I immediately wondered if he was an Indiana Jones-in-training.  He stood out among his peers as he broke the ‘uniform’ of jeans, t-shirts, and sweats and gave the impression of world travel and sophistication.  I don’t know if that was what he intended---he may just have been cold, as it was rather chilly!---but it worked to make him memorable.

One last thought---those little tags that come in scarves?  Read them.  I wish I had noticed this week that the great red scarf I used to make my black and white striped dress feel a bit more ‘French’ was dry clean only.  Oops.  Let’s hope really twisted, wrinkled, and frayed scarves come back into style!