History Lesson: Labor Day

This coming weekend marks the official end of summer (very sad, I know). Most of the public and private schools around here have already sucked their students back in, and the rest will do so next week. But what exactly IS Labor Day? What does it represent? As stated many, many times before, I'm a nerd. A huge, huge nerd who openly admits to a special love for the History Channel and the Discovery Channel, which probably drives my roommates nuts (but that's only because they haven't seen any episodes of Planet Earth yet). And so in honor of my nerdidom, this morning's post will be dedicated to l'histoire of Labor Day.

Though there is some debate as to who first proposed the concept of a day off for the "working" man, the idea was developed and instituted by the Central Labor Union. The first holiday took place in New York City on Tuesday, September 5, 1882. In 1884, the CLU decided that Labor Day would always take place on the first Monday in September, and they urged other major cities to provide their workers with the same fall break. Over the next decade, many states caught onto the idea, and Congress deemed Labor Day a national holiday in 1894. (Sources found here and here.)Huh. I guess the history of Labor Day is quite brief. Well, whether you choose to spend the upcoming weekend having picnics, barbecues, buying school supplies, reuniting with your college buddies around the neighborhood keg or tub of crack juice, and/or watching the first NCAA football games, I know one thing I will NOT be doing: wearing my white for the last time. I think this tradition is silly. Who started it? What were they thinking? Were they just tired of their white shoes, pants, and dresses, and thought to themselves, "I shall henceforth ban the wearing of all white once September begins because I want an excuse to go buy a new wardrobe"? I don't know the answer to this mystery, but I bet Heidi Klum and her BFFs (Tim Gunn, Nina Garcia, and Michael Kors) know the answer. Perhaps I will compose a letter. Or just keep wearing my white shoes, pants, and sundresses, to the utter dismay of my grandmother, who eschews such fashion faux-pas.