At my 60th birthday luncheon, my mother got a big laugh with her speech that began, “Susan came out of the womb naked and bare, and immediately stated – I have nothing to wear”. While slightly exaggerated, this has been my mantra since middle school. I am perpetually fretting about what to wear for every occasion.
As a young girl, I spent hours playing dolls with my two best friends, coveting the array of outfits in their Barbie Fashion Case. As twins, they had more than double the amount of pieces than in my paltry collection. Despite my pleadings for more, my pragmatic mom resisted, and enlisted our elderly babysitter to crochet my dolls chunky, unfashionable yarn dresses. I wonder if this was the root of my feeling of never having the right clothes, despite my overflowing closet.
I am haunted by every bad fashion decision I’ve made – the orthopedic sandals I purchased in high school that I thought were ironically cool, the maroon raincoat my mom made me buy for college when I wanted the camel, the red silk harem pants I wore to a charity event that made me look like a jester. Even now, seeing wedding and party invitations in the mail triggers palpitations. I recently got one that said the attire was “Ferngully Formal”. Was I supposed to go to the mall or a costume store?
How did I, a former fashion stylist for Saks, whose job was to tell others what to wear, succumb to such fashion self doubt? Unlike Barbie, body parts have started to sag and my arches have fallen too. Let’s face it; it’s hard to know how to dress appropriately after a certain age!
I know I’m not alone in this struggle. No matter how much we shop, none of us seem to have anything to put on. Friends text pictures from their bedrooms modeling shoes and tops to ask my opinion. Even my 91-year-old mom mastered FaceTime to ask my approval from a dressing room in a Florida mall. It’s not our fault we are so lost. The stores are showing clothes with cutouts in places no one wants to see. Skirts are short, pants are wide, ruffles and patterns abound. It seems like Ugly is The New Black.
So what are we to do? At this point in my life, I’ve experimented with every trend and have developed my “look”. I still want to stay up-to-date and be fashionable. Yet when I shop in the contemporary department I have to wonder “does this outfit go with my face?” I want to look young, but not like an aging hipster. As my friend’s mother, Sylvia, used to say, “There’s a fine line between an outfit and a get-up”.
When you are young you can get away with the latest trends. Fringed jeans and holes on the knees of a GenXer exudes trendiness. On an older person it gives off bag lady vibes. Forever 21 may have closed, but if Forever 61 opened I’d be first in line. No one wants to see me in a crop top with my belly looking like focaccia. I’ve always tried to avoid being what Glamour Magazine used to call a Fashion “DON’T”.
My closet was beginning to give vintage store vibes, however there’s a fine line between a retro treasure and a “schmatta”. I still own the stretched out pullover I wore for my first date with my husband and we are married over 35 years! Recently, as I was getting dressed for dinner, I spent 30 minutes snatching things off hangers leaving a tsunami of shirts and pants on my bedroom floor. Meanwhile my husband walked into his closet, grabbed the first thing he saw and was ready to go. I asked him how I looked and he answered, “fine” without even looking up. Clearly, he was used to this scenario.
It prompted a realization. Although he always looks more than presentable, he’s not one someone should turn to for fashion advice. But I envied the way he and other men basically have a “uniform” for every occasion, and don’t ruminate over what to wear or what people think.
The next weekend I spent a few hours “consciously uncoupling” with items in my closet and tossed or donated half my clothes. No one needs 20 pairs of blue jeans — I only wore 5 favorites. I culled the things that hadn’t been worn in years. It’s easier to get dressed when you like everything you own, versus a full closet of useless pieces. I noticed what was missing and went shopping for a few classic, versatile pieces…a tweedy blazer with pretty buttons, well-fitting black flared jeans, a pair of leather boots I could walk comfortably in, neutral cashmere sweaters, and a new handbag to accessorize everything. Classic doesn’t have to be boring.
Men don’t size each other up when they walk into a party. I resolved to stop worrying so much about what other people think, and embrace my own choices. If skinny jeans look good on me, I don’t care if influencers say they are out of style. I’ll be wearing them!
Women have endured painful shoes and tight garments for way too long. No more wearing clothes that itch, pinch or constrict breathing. I have often quoted a French phrase that translates to “one must suffer to be beautiful”. That must have been said by someone much younger and with better feet.
Fashion comes and goes but style is forever. My husband doesn’t change his entire wardrobe every season. Neither did fashion icons like Coco Chanel or Jackie Onassis. My grandmother Alice was still put together at 98. I don’t need to mirror what others are wearing, especially not people half my age. No one is looking at us as critically as we judge ourselves. Confidence is the best accessory.
Although I’m making progress, sometimes I still stare blankly at my curated closet and wonder what to wear. Old habits die hard but I feel less stressed knowing I will figure it out and leave my house feeling good. How I feel about myself is all that matters. I don’t own a speck of pink clothing, except for the Cowgirl Barbie outfit I donned for Halloween, but I am finally building my own Dream Closet.