My mother's closet is like a capsule frozen in time. She dresses just like Queen Latifah did in '89: all-black outfits tailor-made for making power fists, ankara-printed kufis and gold around her wrists...but now Latifah dresses like she goes to ballrooms every night. Funny how we start and then abandon our own trends! What was cool to wear back then has come back into vogue again. Now my mother loans her clothes to all my female friends. My parents held on to their clothes, and now they're cool again. My father dresses like RUN-DMC in '86: Kangol hats and leather jackets that just barely fit, unlaced sneakers, denim jeans, and chains around his neck. I'm shocked I haven't seen a boombox on his shoulder yet! ...but after Run stopped raising hell, my dad kept on rockin' the bells, 'til hipsters younger than myself picked up on his old trends. Beige don't age and black don't crack - a damn near scientific fact. Now my father looks just like my older, hipper friend.