Last night I was stirred not shaken like a mixed-up martini when I realized I have a ton of clothes.
I've decided to bring another bag to the Salvation Army-this time a bag solely of clothes. You see: I use the stylist to guide me in the direction of my future wardrobe. So I begin over the next five years to discard what no longer works.
On the chopping block: an ivory GAP long cable-knit cardigan and a red cotton turtleneck and a black turtleneck with red-and-white stripes. This last item reminds me of a sweater I had for a number of years that I bought at the Limited. Parting is such sweet sorrow. I will also donate to Sal's one of the three black wool sweaters I bought in Benetton that I rarely wear now. Also the Ann Taylor bamboo-print shell and skirt that I told myself I would hold on to just in case I needed it. Chances are the opportunity to wear it will not come up any time soon.
The jeans I did buy and I hope they fit as they are measured by your waist not your regular size. I saw a pair of midnight navy denim flare pants that I also want to buy as well. The stylist can help me find a pair of white pants.
It feels like some kind of shaky reality.
The truth is this winter it was incredibly cold more so than usual and it snowed often so I could not wear some of the sweaters I have. Two are lighter weight cardigans. I also did not wear the other sweaters. The sheer amount of stuff is unbelievable. I have no recourse but to get rid of some things to assuage myself that I'm not tied to my things.
This coming week it's supposed to be in the 40s so I wear some sweaters I haven't worn all winter and I wear the cashmere long sleeve tee shirts on their own without a jacket.
This is true: when I was in high school I browsed the FIT course bulletin because I thought I might go to school there. It was a passing fancy yet in retrospect it hints that I was pulled this way.
Also: sometimes you just have to get rid of clothes you've had for years that are in good condition that you've grown bored of. I'm my own strictest critic when it comes to this. I remember that when I was a teen and a young woman I dressed almost exclusively in black: even at every holiday. I can remember one Easter at my parents house wearing one of my usual black outfits. This is interesting because today I feel that when I wear all black I look severe.
Ironically: I haven't dressed in black from head-to-toe in a long time. The critic in me feels that if I were a therapist wearing all black would create a buffer between the patient and me and I'd come across as cold and indifferent. This is just an idea I have that is possibly not true at all. Right now I wear black sweaters with jeans or with my gray pants and I wear the black jacket with the cashmere long sleeve tee shirts and jeans.
This is. Something else entirely. Yes: I think of these things.
All these prescriptions I write for how to dress. You realize it is kind of Type A to want to dress so that you convey the effect you intended. That is the heart of the matter.
I'm proactive in how I shop now because I want to keep an eye on the clothes I'd wear in the new career. I remember two art therapists I knew whose style I coveted. One wore sweaters in the winter and the other dressed more formally yet did not wear suits. I will not have to wear suits as a therapist so that is good yet I do want to dress in a professional way. The stylist can steer me in the direction of this new wardrobe.
It is supposed to snow again on Wednesday. Heavens. It has been too much with this cold slushy weather and I hope next winter we have a better time of it.
OK: I've sent out this SOS because I've spent the whole weekend staring at my closets and drawers. Something has to give.
I had this conversation with someone who claimed comparing ourselves to other people can be a good thing when we want to emulate their positive qualities. So I understand how I coveted the style of the art therapists. I also was impressed with the clothes a woman in my original writing workshop wore because she had a great sense of style that reflected a sense of personal unity.
Right now you most likely want to tell me: basta. Enough. I understand. Not a lot of us have these kinds of fashion awakenings-or do we? I set the appointment with the stylist within two weeks.
Wish me good luck with this. I'll be sure to tell you the wind-up after she analyzes my wardrobe. Hopefully all is not lost.
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