I woke up with the greatest peace this morning. I’m not sure why, except that perhaps I’d slept well and I knew we had an entire day to do with as we pleased. I had convinced Cynical to do a little shopping and he complied, reluctantly, but he complied.
You see, the trouble with my job and I suspect employment in general, is the need to dress in keeping with what I do. And I must confess that I’d been a little lax, well perhaps a lot lax, in keeping my wardrobe updated. While I am confessing, it seems that I had gotten pretty casual in my daily attire. . . needless to say it was time to step it up. Most days I resemble a sloppy librarian, and needed to move more toward funky librarian.
After much ado, multiple dressing room visits and a little gritting of my teeth, I came home with a new pair of gorgeous shoes and a shirt. That’s it. Not exactly a new wardrobe. Not even a small update. I came up empty. Ugh.
I think the issue is a complicated one. First, the fit. As you can imagine, walking into a dressing room conjures up all sorts of body issue stress. Big thighs, short legs, thick torso. . . and the list goes on. And it’s all on display there in those floor length mirrors. Warts, body fat and all. . . there for you to see in full detail.
Secondly, there is the whole concept of age appropriate. I don’t want to dress like I’m in my 20s, but I don’t want to dress like my mother either. Surely there are clothes between something that highlights my new belly button ring and comes with a matching bonnet.
Lastly. . . who am I? How do I make my outside reflect what’s going on in my head? I fully realize that is a scary thought. I need to define my personal style. And, that, you see, is the problem. Am I a hippie? Am I Indie? Am I classic? Am I professional? Can I mix all of these into something that doesn’t leave me looking like a clown or someone that dressed in the dark? I also don’t want to look like everyone else. As one of my campers once said, “I don’t have to be fabulous, I just have to be me.” And. . . most importantly. . . will I be comfortable in my own skin, or the things covering said skin. As one of my campers once said, “I don’t have to be fabulous, I just have to be me.”
Back to square one, yet again.
However, I do have a fabulous new pair of shoes to inspire me. Calvin Klein. Kitten heel. Pointy toe. Comfortable. Anyone up for a day of shopping?