Well hello there!
Let’s see, where were we?
Ah yes, I was mercilessly keeping you in suspense about my grand toe-wiggling-induced epiphany. (Read it first so this makes a little more sense)
So there I was in the car, wiggling my toes and crying. And all of a sudden it was like a lightbulb flicked on.
“Oh…my…gawd. I HATE MY CLOTHES.”
Now, to be clear, this was not an “I must shop to numb the pain of my existence” kind of thing. This was me realizing that I was wearing gray pants, a black T-shirt, a black hoodie, and ugly white sneakers, and that THEY ALL MADE ME FEEL LIKE UTTER CRAP. To the point of tears (OK, the tears were partly because I wanted to go and buy a whole new wardrobe and I was busily telling myself that we couldn’t afford such a frivolous expense).
(Yeah, I KNOW it’s slimming. But that doesn’t mean it makes me happy…)
Now that I think about it, this has been coming on for a while.
There was this post by The Happiest Mom about how we should buy only clothing that we feel fantastic in (as opposed to my recent shopping mentality: “It’s just gonna get stained anyway, so let’s get something cheap that looks half-decent, and let’s make it black so that the stains won’t show so much)
There was this post by The Word Cellar, which talks about having clothes that “don’t fit” you (personally, not physically) and the amazing process of discovering a style you love.
There was a prompt from Jamie Ridler’s wonderful Sparkles e-course which talked about going through your wardrobe and putting on “perhaps a poppy red cardigan, Prussian blue skirt, saffron stockings and a t~shirt that reminds you of wisteria.” My senses reeled and I was overcome with longing to own clothes like that and have those choices.
Honestly, the signs were there even earlier. When I was planning our wedding in 2005, I was thisclose to buying a red version of my bridesmaids’ dresses to wear at the reception, until I decided it would be too expensive (still kicking myself over that one), and I desperately wanted red shoes to wear under my wedding dress, only NO store in Halifax sold shoes big enough for me and I had to get a pair of my old sandals painted gold (no red paint, I guess). You get the idea.
So here’s what I’ve realized: I like colour. I like LOTS of colour. That’s why I ADORE my 30th-birthday-purse.
(More than six months later, the utter fabulosity of this purse still has not worn off)
And why, if my feet were narrower, I would live in my purple Converse low-tops.
(Super-adorable and my favourite shoes ever, even though I can’t walk more than a couple blocks without blisters)
Forget all-black or all-neutral. Give me all-colour all the time.
I am ditching my black and gray pants (which are maternity pants, btw….yeah…) and I have taken all of my black shirts and put them on a shelf in my closet. As far as I’m concerned they can stay there (except maybe for that 3/4 sleeve snap-up blouse with the see-through stars all over it…that could work with something bright underneath…). I’m retiring all of my sensible so-small-you-can’t-see-them pendants (which leaves me with exactly 4 necklaces…we have some shopping to do, people!).
The next coat I buy will be something red or purple and AWESOME. And my friend Krista, who generously lent me her fabulous turquoise hat on the day of my epiphany, will have to PRY IT FROM MY COLD DEAD HANDS TO GET IT BACK. Or, you know, help me find a similar one
(LOVE that hat. LOVE it. LOVE LOVE LOVE!)
So there it is. Goodbye black. Hello, colour. I am blossoming out in rainbow shades. And it feels amazing. Now, if I can just find some spare cash to shop with…
What do YOU love to wear? What makes YOU feel like a rockstar? Is there any way you can wear those clothes a little more or keep them in mind next time you shop? Because really, isn’t life to short not to let your inner fabulousness shine out?
Oh. Hells. Yes.