Just Plain Tacky

If you spend enough time in the South, you are bound to hear the phrase, “that’s just plain tacky.” The statement is a staple around here. It can be used as a quick dismissal of something, to describe a type of behavior one doesn’t agree with, or can describe something that could be seen as gaudy. And, it can also be the ultimate insult. Interestingly enough, I found that the term being used to describe something that lacks taste in the South may have originated with a breed of horses called the wild Carolina Marsh Tacky horses. These animals were not considered to be of high quality and viewed to be lacking in breeding. If you aren’t familiar with the common usage of the phrase, let me give you some examples of things that can be seen as just downright tacky.

The first thing that comes to mind is gum chewing. Now, this is something I have always struggled with. I am a tried and true gum chewer and never leave home without a pack of tropical twist trident in my purse or pocket. I even buy it in bulk- to my mother’s dismay. However, I have settled on the idea that it is not if you chew the gum, but how you chew the gum.

Growing up as a child, my mother would snap at me faster than a sneeze through a screen door if she saw me chewing gum in a public setting. And if she caught me chewing (or even thinking about smacking) gum in church, she would have my hide. My mother would then go on to tell me that chewing gum made me look like a cow munching on hay, and it was “just plain tacky” for a lady to do so. There began my struggle. I couldn’t decide which would be tackier- chewing gum or having bad breath. So, I taught myself how to chew gum in a certain way as to not draw attention to myself. After mastering this skill, I made it through church as a child, high school classes where the act was outlawed, and even walked down the aisle on my wedding day with a wad stuck in the side of my mouth. Right before I was set to go on the highly anticipated wedding walk down the middle of the grand sanctuary, the event director looked at me sternly and asked, “Do you have any gum in your mouth? If you do, you need to spit it out. This is your wedding.” Her palm was open, right in front of my lips, as if she expected a thirty-year-old bride to spit out chewed up gum into it her bare hand like a toddler would in daycare.

I looked around, realizing I was about to tell a boldfaced lie in the house of the Lord, said a quick ,quiet prayer for forgiveness and for my mother not to notice, then simply responded, “Of course not.” But, I bet I had fresh breath for my first kiss as a wife.

The other day, I was talking to an old friend about a sprinkle for a woman, and the response was, “well… three is just plain tacky!” Now, if you are not aware of what a sprinkle is, it is an informal get-together to celebrate a mother-to-be and her second born child. A baby shower is for the first child- with all the pomp and circumstance. A sprinkle would be considered an intimate gathering with a few friends, possibly over dinner, where they each bring a small gift for the newest addition for the family. It especially makes sense to have a sprinkle if the second child is the opposite sex of the first one. This way, if the mother only has boy things and is expecting a girl, she can be gifted more feminine items and clothing of pink since she doesn’t have any at home already. Where it starts getting tacky is when a mother has multiple sprinkles after multiple kids…of the same sex. In this specific example, a mother was expecting her third daughter within four or five years and had yet another sprinkle after a first formal shower and second informal sprinkle. Can you imagine the amount of pink in that home? I bet that house was busting out the seams with glitter and pastels. And what ever happened to hand-me-downs? Now, we southerners love to celebrate, but there does come a point when it simply becomes “just plain tacky”.

Another time I tend to hear something being tacky is when it comes to thank you notes, particularly after a wedding. Any traditionalist knows that the bride and groom have an entire year to write a thank you note for a wedding gift. That’s a pretty good amount of time if you ask me. And rest assured, any good southern woman remembers who did not write a thank you note after a year of expecting one. I’ll never forget when I announced to a friend’s mother that a couple we knew was getting a divorce. Her response was a simple and unemotional, “well, I’m not surprised. You know she never wrote me a thank you note for the china I gave them? It was just plain tacky if you ask me.”

Finally, there is the age-old rule of not wearing white after Labor Day. This is a rule or tradition that seems to be a dying trend. We now live in a time where pretty much anything goes in fashion. White designer jeans can cost more than a fancy leather handbag, and for the price people are paying, I don’t blame them for wanting to wear those white jeans year round. However, this is a rule that has been so engrained in my southern head that I cannot bring myself to do it- unless the outfit of choice I have is a distinct “winter white”. (there is a difference). I also find it interesting that at the college I attended in Mississippi, the official game day color for the Saturday before Labor Day is white. Any game after the holiday, the colors fans are instructed to wear are shades of blue and red. Clearly the tradition holds strong there, and that even the people in charge of an SEC football game believe that if you wear white after Labor Day to one of the events, it may be seen as “just plain tacky”. My money’s on the fact that a traditional, southern woman is in charge of those game day colors.

So, if you’re running around the South anytime soon, make sure you listen closely when something is said to be tacky. Even though I’ve been guilty many times of partaking in tacky things (like open toe shoes after Labor Day), I know I always make sure to take note. While it can seem very judgmental at times, it’s all based on tried and true tradition in the South. And who knows, maybe you’ll pick up some pointers? Or, maybe you just won’t give a damn and go on and live your best life as your tacky self in white jeans after Labor Day at a third or fourth baby sprinkle. Just don’t forget to write the thank you note.

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