There were Italians, Finns, Jews, Negroes, Shropshiremen, Cubans-anyone who had heeded the voice of liberty-and they were dressed with that sumptuary abandon that European caricaturists record with such bitter disgust. Yes, there were grandmothers in shorts, big-butted women in knitted pants, and men wearing such an assortment of clothing that it looked as if they had dressed hurriedly in a burning building. But this, as I say, is my own country and in my opinion the caricaturist who vilifies the old lady in shorts vilifies himself. I am a native and I was wearing buckskin jump boots, chino pants cut so tight that my sexual organs were discernible, and a rayon-acetate pajama top printed with representations of the Pinta, the Niña, and the Santa María in full sail. The scene was strange-the strangeness of a dream where we see familiar objects in an unfamiliar light.
( John Cheever )
[ The Stories of John Cheever ]
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