My grandmother was a very old-fashioned Southern Baptist woman with a pretty strict code of behavior that applied not just to her immediate family, but to anyone who crossed her path. She was a tough old bird, but the first on your doorstep if you needed help. Meals for widowers, children adopted for $1 a day in third world countries, caring for her mother-in-law through Alzheimer's, church work, you get the picture.
Well a big part of her code was how a woman dressed. In church: dresses or skirts were a must. Slacks forbidden. Pantsuits OK for shopping during the week. Pants and a blouse OK for yard work, talking with neighbors or getting her hair done. But inside her own house (no one else's) she would wear shorts and grasshoppers. The only place appearances didn't matter, where she could just be herself was at home. I have fond memories of her sitting at her organ playing "Harbor Lights" and singing along. Or giving me ice cream before dinner. And pushing a $20 bill into my hand for "walking around money." So I wear my grasshoppers (at home only) because they remind me of the grandmother who was just for me. Sentimental yes, but it makes me smile inside.
p.s. if you ever see the kelly green ones in the store, let me know. Those are the very best ones.