New York magazine shows us P Diddy’s white party. Obviously after Memorial Day.

It seems like at least once a year I read an article in Vogue or Glamour that says the “don’t wear white before Memorial Day” rule is dead. Wear lovely white wool pants in the winter, wear a beautiful white winter coat, they suggest, and forget that old fashioned fashion dictate.

And yet on some level, when Memorial Day comes, part of me can’t help but think “oooh, maybe today I’ll wear those white pants with the black embroidery that I like so much.”

Despite regular attempts at deprogramming by the fashionista community, I’m still at least partially brainwashed into the anti-white before Memorial Day dictate. Why is that?

More absurd: I grew up Catholic but quit the church in high school, and I became vegetarian in college. I’ve been through various permutations of vegetarian since then — sometimes eating poultry, sometimes eating fish, sometimes being nearly vegan — but in some form or other, I’ve given up at least red meat for about 20 years.

Yet each year when Lent rolls around, I find myself monitoring my menus on Fridays to ensure I don’t break the “no meat on Friday” dictate.

A church I haven’t been part of for about two decades has me feeling guilty about the potential to eat something I gave up nearly that long ago? Really?

I don’t worry that my life would be better if I could put on some white pants and eat meat before Easter, but it makes me wonder how many other restrictions I’ve internalized that I should really jettison.