Let me just start by saying that I am fully aware my fashion
sense sometimes borders on gaudy with a first cousin to “hmm, that’s not what I
would choose”. Most days I am completely OK with that. I don’t always dress age
appropriate. I don’t always dress to mimic current styles. I almost NEVER dress
solely for comfort. I do try to dress so when I walked out of my house I am
unique. I appreciate a well-planned out, organized, color coordinated ensemble.
I blame this on my mother. Not ‘blame’ in a bad way, I loved my mother beyond
measure. And not ‘blame’ in the sense that I am trying to emulate her. No, I
blame her because she chose to dress me like we were living in the Great Depression
when in fact we lived on Rich Road in Virginia in the early 70s. (That’s not a
metaphor. That’s just the name of the road we lived on when I was a young girl.)
My parents actually WERE raised in the Great Depression. (If
you read “Heritage” than you are already up to speed.) It was an extremely
difficult time for them and the take away for my mother was that store bought
clothes were expensive and handmade ones worked just fine. A bolt of cloth and a
working sewing machine kept my youthful closet interesting. Now I know the term
‘homemade’ nowadays conjures up posts on Pinterest or Etsy. There are even
websites where you can BUY tags that say “Home Made by…” (Does anyone else see
the irony of buying a label to
proclaim something homemade?) Let me assure you however, that what I am
referring to would not make it to an Etsy site.
Please don’t find me ungrateful. My mother was a good
seamstress. As a toddler, I had some very cute outfits. As a young child I
didn’t even notice that my clothes were not the ‘same’ as the other kids in
school. But then the day dawned where all that changed.
We moved from Rich Road in Virginia to a little farm in
rural eastern North Carolina. (My parents wanted to move back to where they
called ‘home’). I was 11. We moved sometime
during the winter, so it was an already established school year. So picture
this, on my first day of school in this new town at a very sensitive and awkward
age I walked in wearing homemade purple plaid polyester elastic waist pants. Yes,
they were that bad. I know. I just cringed a little myself thinking about it
again. What I didn’t know at the time was as I was walking in to be introduced,
some of the kids thought I was a new teacher! That’s not exactly the impression
a pre-teen at a new school is hoping for. I would like to say as life events
go, it wasn’t that traumatic, yet here I am 40 years later talking about it.
Shortly thereafter I started to have a little more input
concerning my wardrobe. I still didn’t own my first pair of store bought blue
jeans until I was 13, but my closet had less and less contributions from the
sewing room. I worked hard to develop my own personal style. Sure, maybe over
the years I have gone a little overboard at times. I don’t intentionally set
out to look distracting, but I have probably done it from time to time. I know
it has cost me dates. Some guys just don’t get me. Truth be told I very much
envy the women who pull off a very simple, classic look. It’s timeless and chic.
And it escapes me.
Well meaning counsel might even suggest that I use bright
colors, textures and layers to distract from or hide the ‘real’ me. That boots
and scarves and dangling earrings provide an emotional camouflage. That is an
interesting concept and has actually crossed my mind before. A painful
self-realization that I will leave as fodder for another day.
Part 1 of this ‘series’ was how we often stress about the
opinions of others. And look for ways to measure those opinions. While I am often
guilty of doing just that, I have chosen to frequently rebel against the
conventional. My line in the sand of individuality is my fashion statement. Where
is your line? What is so YOU?
Make sure there is something distinct in your life that no one can come through
and erase or diminish it. Maybe it is a sport. Or an artistic talent. Even your
career. Maybe you can finish every crossword puzzle you come across. (More
power to you on that one. I am awful at them.) Whatever it is that makes you
unique, celebrate it! Be magnificent at it! In this one area tell the world
what they can do with their approval rating system. Because you own it!
So while I admit that I still want you to like me, I am ok
if you occasionally shake your head at my outfit du jour. Maybe there are times when I look more like that 11
year old in purple polyester than I should. But for me, it makes me joyful.
Plus I can never get lost in a crowd.
Hope Out
You did not mention the eyewear!!! (*˘︶˘*)Awesome.
ReplyDeleteOh my stars! Were we separated at birth??? I had handmade purple polyester sea shell patterned elastic-waist pants in elementary school, among many other garishly colored and patterned pants. My first pair of jeans was bought for my first day of high school, and I embroidered an eclectic assortment of objects on them! You couldn't lose me in a crowd if you tried! LOL
ReplyDeleteThat is too funny! It sounds like a parallel universe for sure! *smile*
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