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The Honolulu Advertiser

Posted on: Sunday, September 8, 2002

Husband, tattered clothes seemingly inseparable

Family Matters
By Ka'ohua Lucas

"Oh my," I said and winced. "Are you going to wear that on the golf course?"

"I certainly am," my husband replied. "Why?"

"Kinda shame, huh?"

"Nah," he said, hoisting the golf bag onto his shoulder. "Nobody will notice."

I was quite certain that a few heads would indeed turn as he chipped and putted his way through 18 holes at the Princeville course near Hanalei.

Who could help but notice?

In early Hawai'i, Hawaiians wore the same kind of clothing whether they were fishing, planting or enjoying a game of 'ulu maika (an ancient bowling game using stones).

"The principal garment for the men was a loincloth or malo made from kapa which was pounded from plant fibers into an off-white fabric," writes the late Dr. Donald Kilolani Mitchell in "Resource Units in Hawaiian Culture." "It was worn white or dyed in solid colors and was sometimes decorated with geometric designs."

Nowadays, people dress up in their favorite running suit just to take a jog around the block. And most amateur golfers in Hawai'i wear Bermuda shorts, a collared shirt and golf shoes.

My husband refuses to adhere to the rules of the fashion-conscious. Before he trudged out the door with our youngest son and a nephew in tow, I quickly scanned what he was wearing.

Like the early Hawaiians, he wears the same outfit whether he's surfing, hiking or painting the house, but his is quite different from theirs. It includes: his favorite long-sleeved Downing Hawai'i T-shirt, smeared with grease stains, and the ribbed neck slightly torn, exposing a patch of freckled skin; a green-plaid pair of shorts I bought him six years ago (a Ross special, $5.99).

As for his pants, splotches of white paint covered one side of the leg, evidence of the last time he painted our house. The back pocket had ripped, leaving half of the pocket dangling by its threads.

"Honey? I didn't bring any shoes. All I've got are my hiking boots. Do you think that would be OK?" he said, striking a pose.

"You're a fashion plate," I said.

"Come on, Daddy, let's go!" our 8-year-old hollered.

Grabbing his favorite baseball cap, my husband secured the snap-on plastic dark glasses to the frame of his own glasses and headed out the door.

"Gosh, Dad," our 19-year-old daughter said with a grimace. "You look like a dork."

"What a stud, huh?" he joked.

I think that most serious golfers would find my husband's choice of dress atrocious.

"If (he were) at the Ala Wai, no big deal," said my older brother, the one who can never join a family party because his weekends are reserved for golf. "If (he) was at my course, I'd call the marshal and kick him off!"

It could have been worse. My husband could have decided to go native and wear a malo.

Ka'ohua Lucas, a mother of three, holds a master's degree in education curriculum and instruction.Write her at: Family Matters, 'Ohana Section, The Honolulu Advertiser, P.O. Box 3110, Honolulu, HI 96802; e-mail ohana@honoluluadvertiser.com or fax 535-8055.