Then tender Tim Tankens he searched here and there/For some garment to clothe her fair skin

I’m in a stage of life that I’m calling “Hey, at least I dressed myself!”

Years ago I denounced fashion (tie-dyed bike shorts and sweater clips were on the way out anyway) and focused more simply on dressing myself.  That was the jeans-and-a-Goodwill-tshirt stage (which may have been a fashion trend, but I was either behind the fad or unaware of it).  But every seven years or so, I have a closet crisis: I wake up one day to realize that my wardrobe is unsuited (har) for the position I’ve found myself in.

For instance: I spent the last two years working at a bookstore, wherein I wandered barefoot and carefree.  All my jeans had holes in them; I layered tank tops like mad; my hair was usually tucked into a bandana or hat; and shoes were of the devil.  But then I got hired as a copywriter at a marketing firm.  And my closet disintegrated into a heap of threadbare jeans, de-elasticized built-in bras, and sole-rubbed flip-flops.

I’ve always looked through magazines like Newport News (which is really the only one I can remember looking through, now that I think of it).  And I used to tell my mom, “If I had a lot of money, I’d dress like that.”  Well, I have more money than I ever have now.  But I’m still not committed to my wardrobe or personal style enough to start buying expensive magazine pieces.

A shift in shopping ideals has helped.  I used to buy something I liked because I liked it, then realized six months later that I never wore it.  Now I’m working hard at buying something I like that will go with several pairs of my current pants/shirts and that I can see potential in – a piece that makes me want to buy new, slightly more mature clothes.

Here’s where all this gets tricky: I’m a writer.  We don’t have uniforms, we aren’t exactly artists (although I heart black clothing), we aren’t complete hippies, nor are we absolute yuppies.  I like all those styles.  Blending them into something that I like, that suits me, and that is appropriate for most occasions literally freezes me into a panicky statue.  Nine times out of ten, if I’m late to work, it’s because I was standing in front of my closet agonizing over what to wear.  And I’m not a three black skirts kinda girl!  Give me options, color, texture, variety!

So today, the stage I’m dealing with looks this: a loose silver v-neck sweater over an olive halter, tucked into jeans with a gold belt, gold and copper accessories and sandals.  It may be cute.  It might not be fashionable.  In fact, it may not work at all.  But the important part is this: I’m here, and I’m not naked.  Jess dressed herself!