I recently mused on sexual selection as pertaining to birds.

Going from Charles Darwin to the most contemporary studies, all research seemed to contradict the earlier theory that males sprouted bright feathers and sang gorgeous songs to win the female birds. Now, the thinking goes, it’s exactly the opposite: it’s those little dull-colored girls who have the final say.

What exactly are those studies saying? If he’s strutting and she’s admiring, does it really matter who’s doing the choosing? I figure it’s a matter of mutual attraction but can one truly tell? As that old song reminds us, “it takes two to tango.”

I think of teenagers (as I knew them decades ago). Sure, the boys dressed (sometimes, to a mother’s eye, quite weirdly) to impress the girls or, more likely, to win peer approval from their friends. It was the junior high girls who couldn’t wait to go to the mall to stroll back and forth between the stores, impressing whomever might appear. Candidly, I didn’t think that much about it. I just did the driving, bringing the same carload of giggling girls safely home.

But these later studies seem to be saying the males get dolled up to be especially attractive to all the female birds of their sort. I guess that’s true. They can’t hide those talents even if they wished. So give the little girl credit. She gets to pick. Only, how many male birds are there out there for any picky female? Sitting here, I have to say I don’t see a great number for either sex to choose from. One bird. One bird. Baby birds.

Interesting theory, but what about all the species (and I suspect their number is larger) who, to our eyes, look the same? Well, of course they know but it isn’t the color. It might be the song (though studies are now showing females sing as well) but of what conceivable use is a lovely song to a lady bird interested in filling her nest? Is there any practical purpose to singing? We enjoy the activity and many, myself included, appreciate beautiful song.

I’d planned to list many of our birds whose sexes look similar or positively identical but the sun is shining and love is in the air so let’s skip those studies.

Wandering now safely of course, I am reminded of a not-too-long-ago column by Froma Harrop.

Not the least bit interested in birds, she was looking at the American male. Her point is obvious in some of the wedding pictures we see in our newspapers. Always the bride is beautifully adorned, usually in a formal gown of white, perfect hairdo with every strand in place, everything as we (the older generation) expect. Close to perfection. And the groom? He seems unable (or disinclined) to even put on a coat and tie. When did “casual” become so casual? Who first decided this lack of decorum was “OK”?

I would have turned and walked away had I seen my groom standing at the altar so inappropriately dressed.

It’s too late now for Valentine’s Day but take a look around you on Easter. I know showing respect by dressing well died years ago. But jeans for Sunday church? OK, they say. Halter tops? Those very short shorts? Ugh. Where will all this end?

I haven’t worn a hat in a couple of years but admire those who do and figure it might be time to dust off one of mine. Gloves? I could. Heels? If they still fit.

Why don’t we give it a try?

The birds might approve.

Susan Crossett has lived in Arkwright for more than 20 years. A lifetime of writing led to these columns as well as two novels. Her Reason for Being was published in 2008 with Love in Three Acts following in 2014. Both novels are now available at Lakewood’s Off the Beaten Path bookstore. Information on all the Musings, her books and the author may be found at Susancrossett.com.