I don’t always dress very well. This is something I’ve known about myself for a long time. I am, for all intents and purposes, a t-shirt and jeans girl. Sometimes this works for me. Sometimes it makes me look like a farm girl (which I essentially am, but I now live in the city, and therefore feel like I should sometimes actually look like I live in the city). On the whole, I don’t really care how I look. No, that’s not entirely true. It’s more of an equation or ratio. I care how I look, but only to the extent that I can stand to do something about it. It’s a cost-benefit ratio, I suppose. If it’s not fairly cheap and easy, then I’m not going to do it.
A perfect example: I love love love my current hairdresser. Why? Because she believes me when I say, “I want my hair to look as good as it can without me doing anything to it. If you give me a cut that takes more than 30 seconds to do something with, then you’re wasting the cut. Seriously, I wash it and I put it in a bun until it’s dry. And then I shake it out.” Every other person who cut my hair was like, “Yes, but if you just blowdry it…” or “Yes, but if you use these three products…” It was like I was talking to myself. My current hairdresser is the first one ever who said, “Okay, I can work with that.” And she does. It’s fantastic, and so is she.
Seriously, I want to be one of those people who always looked immaculate and perfect. Who never has cat hair on her cashmere sweater. Who wears cashmere sweaters (makes me itch). The kind of person who looks like the world’s perfect designer picks out her clothes every morning and then follows her around, making sure she never has a wrinkle, crease, stain or splotch. Buutttt… yeah, I’m not.
Over the years, I have become a better dresser, however. I now understand how my body shape can be accentuated or destroyed by the clothes I wear. Sometimes I even take advantage of that learning. Most times I find something that’s clean and I put it on. What I really want is someone who will come to my house with twenty outfits and eight pairs of jeans that look absolutely fantastic on me and are my size and who will say to me, “Yes, those pants make your ass look fantastic. Let’s get three of those in different colors.” I would pay big money for that.
Since I don’t have that, I flounder through the dressing thing. I shop mostly at thrift stores — cheaper, environmentally friendly, more unique — and I can pretty much choose things that flatter my shape (except for jeans — I swear I’ve never bought a pair of jeans that didn’t either sag around my ass or smush it into flatness).
So, in an effort to dress myself like a big girl (without assistance from smart-mouthed friends or Garanimals (yes, I loved those!)), I’ve spent much of this week learning my “Colors.” Colors are a thing out of the ’80s, I believe, when women were really into Color Me Beautiful and knowing what your season is.
So far, I’ve gotten my books out of the library and I’ve been draping myself in colors in an attempt to discover my season. Pictures to come tomorrow.
Have you ever had your colors/seasons done? If so, what are you? Do you have a picture that illustrates you wearing your “best” colors? I’d love to see them/share them here!
Coloring the rainbow, one stripe at a time, s.