Sporting the Sportif Hill Look

Originally Uploaded to flickr by katmere

I was in line somewhere in the Metro area, a museum I recall, and turned to ask a relaxed, jeans  and untucked oxford-wearing woman behind me where  she lived on the Hill. “I don’t,” she said. Yet, she had that “Hill look” that makes some people far away look as if they are our neighbors — and some who visit  seem just as assuredly not.

I sought to pinpoint that look, which seems communally  shared across generation, age, sex, orientation and ethnicity. I watched the cafe-sitters, the schoolyards, the shoppers, the bar-stoolers, the night crowd, the parks, the passersby, and the dog walkers. I asked shopkeepers, neighbors and I will ask you–what is the Hill look? Is it Frager’s-chic? Market-reconnaissance relaxed? East Capitol Conservative?

“Mommies in Danskos and elastic-waist Capris?” suggested a fellow Mom.

“Khaki cropped pants, tees of varying colors and Tevas.  Dress it up with belt and polo, footwear remains the same. I can’t keep track of how many women on the Hill sport this look,” said Hill fashionista and Prada-heel aficionado, Winnie Yagan.A lack of visible makeup, suggested another. Do people carry lipstick in their makeup bags anymore? Do they even have makeup bags, outfitted with a little mirror and a powder puff?   Missing a defined waist and certainly not set off by a pink, off-center bow topping spiked heels, as I saw  on  one young woman quickly pegged as a visitor to our cobble-stone and root-torn sidewalks. What is visible? Well,  there is quite a collection of little inked tattoos peeking out from ankles and short sleeves and necklines, shoulder straps, tank straps, bra straps and  the straps of many an overstuffed bag.  Ankle tattoos, clean Converse and the pedicured and painted toenail. The vanity here hits below the knee I believe.

Yet comfortable shoes are de riguer here for any pedestrian traversing  multiple sizes and angles of bricks and pavers, some even meant for horse hoofs, by golly!  Plus the sewer covers, glass shards and yes, doggy doo.  So, we see   flip-flops with skirts, with Chinos, with sundresses, light jeans, heavy jeans, with cargo shorts and loose tops. There are Adidas shower shoes with print smock dresses and squishy heels with  the escaped-the-community-garden look of oversized garden hats or  rubber-soled walking shoes with earth-tone pants paired with T-shirts given away as a promotion or event or cause, perhaps as recently as 10 years ago. (Yes, we remain proud of our causes and our colleges!)  Hill jeans… well, many seem to lack the commitment to be ankle-grazers, rollups or trouser length, and are a compromise of all three at times.

Comfort means lack of structure. Hair loose and natural or spilling from pony tails; maybe curling around the face, sunning itself. Air-dried hair, worn long or very short, with sensible color or streaked. I have spied more  youth with the spiked, mohawked and purple and pink hair of yore, but perhaps they are skateboarding in from hipper hoods or  are kids home from college.

Most people asked underscored the look of comfort among Hill denizens. Does this mean we are happy?  We walk, not worrying about losing the luster on some shiny leather shoes or the gleam on a lustrous black silk blouse. The residential Hill look isn’t tailored casual, as in haute New England and  it isn’t practiced, as in app developer throws-on-a -blazer.

Jay at Monkey’s Uncle on 7th Street SE took a nice  stab at defining the Hill “look.”

“I think lots of woman who live on the Hill have such a sense of belonging, a sense of truly being comfortable in their surroundings, or in who they will bump into on the street. They are willing to leave the house in a blouse with puke stains, or comfortable jeans that might not give them killer butt.  They will wear sensible shoes with a new skirt and a nice chunky necklace.  The familiarity, the sense of belonging, the ‘comfort zone’ that is created by the warmth of the Hill gives women a feeling that they won’t be judged, and therefore, let it all hang out.  That doesn’t imply slovenly, and in some ways is empowering.  When the focus isn’t on the outside, it lets the inner beauty shine through.  I would put the women of the Hill up against the power gals on K street or the privileged of Georgetown and Chevy Chase, and they would definitely hold their own! This is just the opinion of an aging gay man who loves the women he sees every day!”

Men look comfortable too, if not overly fit. (Although  muscle power seems to be growing here among the women.) One hipper and fitter-than-usual Hill stalwart we caught walking by noted people here can look comfortable because many, like himself, work from home. And, he said, the Hill is a “village within a city,” so the usual buckle-down big city dress code does not apply. Of course, soon you’ll be spotting a great male Washington look on the streets here:  rumpled but refreshing seersucker suits, straw hats and a tall lemonade on ice, that’s back on the porch.

Styles that stand out as more uncommon in residential Capitol Hill are strands of pearls (perhaps someone wandered off -campus from the Hart Office Building), fur, feathers,  pressed shirts and darted skirts, sleek blacks and grays, too-shiny or sleek anything, actually;  middle-parted hair, hosiery, and intentionally  tight clothing, unless offset by an unmade face and unstructured hair.

It is not as if we don’t have these things in our closets, but when we take them out, then look out the window and consider the day, back they go on the hanger or in the drawer, waiting for a boat cruise,  a horse race, a visit to a mother-in-law or a weekend trip to New York City. Sometimes we put our dandiest, brightest items in our front yard instead of on our backs or heads–the colorful  tin roosters, the sprightly garden figures, the rose and hydrangea blossoms, the robot sculptures, the Buddha heads, the signposts pointing round the world…

But the inordinate amount of tan-colored khakis paired with hunter green (washed many, many times) is almost a uniform here, for many men–and women–over 25. We aren’t all overgrown students at Brent Elementary! Let’s try salmon, beefsteak red,  or river blue or surfboard yellow, too! I did see an M&M-green polo atop khakis on a bright limoncello-colored  seat at Seventh Hill and maybe that was enough eye-popping color for one day. My eyes have grown used to the dusty, muted colors of the cloths, buildings, statues and  parks that  loosely clothe, but do not sheathe, the  Hill.