If You’ve Got It, Hide It

It’s no secret.  I have very strong opinions when it comes to grown men wearing baseball pants (See Add That to Your Rule Book).  What it boils down to is this.   Gentlemen, regardless of how handsome, well preserved, and strappingly well built you are, you must remember.  Men of a certain age simply do not belong in baseball pants. Period.

The smattering of youth baseball coaches who persist, season after season, in wearing full player uniforms is not the only thing that incites my ire.  It’s not my only pet peeve.  The spectacle of scantily clad baseball moms has the power to destroy an otherwise perfectly wonderful day at the park. Don’t act all innocent and pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about. There’s one at every game – the Annie Savoy wannabe who appears to have raided some teenaged girl’s closet – and it makes me want to scream PLEASE USE A TOUCH OF DECORUM WHEN YOU DRESS FOR THE BALLPARK!

Leave the skimpy soffe shorts, halter-tops, anklets and toe-rings for the gaggles of teenaged female baseball fanatics meandering around outside the dugouts.  Ensembles like that on a grown woman are enough to make milk curdle. Sure we’ve all got stretch marks, cottage cheese thighs, migrating breasts and flabby arms, BUT THEY ARE NOT MEANT FOR PUBLIC DISPLAY.  And here’s a news flash.  NO AMOUNT OF TANNING IS GOING TO CAMOUFLAGE THE AFOREMENTIONED PHYSICAL ATTRIBUTES.  For the love of Pete, take a look in the mirror before stepping out of the house.

What in the Sam Hill are you thinking?  And don’t give me that whiney It’s-hot-outside-and-I-don’t-care-how-I-look-as-long-as-I’m-cool excuse. I’ve sweated through a hefty share of baseball games over nearly two decades and any lapse in judgement I’ve suffered at the hand of attempting to beat the heat has always been accompanied by the good sense to look in the mirror. That’s all it takes to send me back the closet to trade my “Gidget Loves Moondoggie” trappings for an outfit, less revealing and more befitting of a baseball mom.

You are not giddy minor league groupies, bouncing coquettishly from one park to the next, chasing after your favorite major league prospects.  This is not Bull Durham and your fashion antics are not going to change the outcome of anybody’s collective season statistics.

You are mature baseball moms.  The operative words being “mature” and “moms.”  Moms as in mothers…as in M-O-T-H-E-R-S.  Good gracious, you are in plain view of your sons.  One would think that fact alone would be enough to keep you from leaving the house dressed like Elly May Clampett.

Sure, I long for the days when If you’ve got it, flaunt it, was the modus operandi, but that was then and this is now.  So, ladies, regardless of how old, young, or hot (literally and figuratively) you are, please remember no one wants to see stretch marks, cottage cheese thighs, migrating breasts and flabby arms glistening in the sun.  For the love of Pete, take a look in the mirror before stepping out in public and if you’ve got it, hide it.  End of discussion.

© 2011 by Antoinette D. Datoc

For more of Antoinette’s humor columns please visit the Smyrna-Vinings Patch and the Marietta Patch newspapers.

16 thoughts on “If You’ve Got It, Hide It

    • Since I’m not blogging here everyday anymore, I dropped that calling card from my posts. It just doesn’t seem to work anymore. Do you miss it? I can bring it back…

  1. Ouch. I resemble far too many of those remarks, except for the dressing scantily part. It’s at the point where I’m wondering how bad it would really be to swim fully clothed.

    • Linda,

      Wait…you have a tramp stamp? I’m still in pretty good shape. I can touch my toes (with my breasts), but no matter what I do the cellulite just keeps traveling further and further down the backs of my legs. Did I mention the stretch marks in places that I never knew stretched? As for swimming, I’m thinking of purchasing a wet suit.

  2. I was at a game yesterday in which a young fellow doubled down the left field line. His mom, in front of me in the bleachers, leapt to her feet so violently to cheer, that her left-hand bosum escaped her sundress.

    • jeom18b,
      That’s what I’m talking about. I had a similar experience when a mom sitting in the bleachers exposed her entire hind-side to the spectators sitting behind her. Her son hit one off the wall in dead center (400 feet) for a triple and she leaped up in jubilation with her sundress having somehow tucked itself into the waist of her panties. I feel certain she did not intend to be out in public like that. Just the same, it took me three days to recover.

  3. No tramp stamp (if that means tattoo). But I’d trade all the rest of it for a tattoo any day. I would also get a full wet suit (have a short sleeved, shorts one), except for what a pain it is to pull on that neoprene.

    • Yes, a tramp stamp is a tattoo, but a very specific kind. You know the ones that women have placed on the base of their spines? There’s a funny joke about how tramp stamps look on 20 year olds versus how they look on 50 year olds. Remember playing with SIlly Putty? We used to press the ball onto the comics section of the newspaper. When we’d peel it off the newspaper, some of the newsprint from the comics came with it and you had an image stamped on the Silly Putty. Then we’d stretch it and the image would fade and get all contorted. That’s kind of what happens to a tramp stamp as a woman ages. Not pretty.

      Are wet suits one size fits all? Do they come in XXL? That might solve the neoprene problem for us.

      • Oh; didn’t know tramp stamp = @ base of spine. I have softened on the notion of tattoos, but don’t know where I persnally would put one that no one could see, because that would be my criteria and then what’s the point. How could I forget Silly Putty? The original factory was on Totoket/aka Snake Hill Road when I was little, which was on the way to my great grandmother’s/Phil’s family’s house in North Haven. and the inventor of it built that mansion on a hill on the edge of north Madison which had views clear to Long Island sound. I’ve never stopped looking for Silly Putty when I get into a toy store. That is my other reservation; tattoos with wrinkles & stretches. Yikes!

        Wet suits come in different sizes, but as you get as large as I am, they are in short supply for women. If you are ever serious, sometimes sierra trading post (.com) has good markdowns on them. I bought one for Adam with his jet skiing escapades on the Connecticut River. Also thought it might come in handy for him somehow as a crew member of the Deep River fire/rescue boat. Seriously, we went white water rafting a few years ago and I put that one on that I have. You have to be something of a contortionist to work with them. Now that I think of it, YOU might do very well!

  4. I. LOVE. THIS!!! Btw, “tramp stamp” can also be one on the bosom, which ALSO turns to “silly putty” as one ages 😉

    Might I also add to the list of “ballpark fashion dont’s”: low-rise velour sweatpants with “Juicy” written on the behind….for that matter, ANY low-rise pants or shorts with ANYTHING written on the behind. There is no need to draw attention to your backside, regardless of how hard you work to keep it in shape. We also do not need to see your “plumber’s crack” or “whale tail” when you sit so skip the “low-rise” sweatpants altogether!

  5. May we please add the target audience to anyone at the grocery store, department store, beach, restaurant, gas station, park, mailbox, school, camp, church, soccer field, football field, any sports complex…. ???

  6. The good thing about being a Medicare Mom is that without glasses, I can’t see the fashion disasters at the ball park, or anywhere else for that matter. My big objection is to all the “Craig’s Mom”, “Craig’s Granny”, “Craig’s Sis”, “Craig’s Aunt” , “Craig’s Uncle”, “Craig’s Second Cousin Twice Removed” t-shirts that Craig’s fans wear. Unless Craig is being watched by an agent from the New York Yankees, who cares who Craig is at age 5 or who is related to him? Not me. http://themedicaremom.blogspot.com

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