As most of you know I have a perfect godson who has perfect 6 month old twins. My godson has grown accustomed to seeing me dressed in a particular fashion, one we might call "put together tastefully." This has become challenging when visiting infants, one of whom christens me with vomit EVERY SINGLE VISIT. I've taken to planning my wardrobe around his little custom. It's become a family joke and everyone cheers when he "gifts" me. That said, I still put myself together "tastefully." I just wear white cotton so the curdled milk blends in. It makes me laugh.
When asking myself how much effort I wish to put forth, the answer is middling. I keep my hair and nails groomed, lipstick always on. I've never worn makeup of any kind, no waxing or shaving. I have a slight mustache and white whiskers which are charming additions to my 66 year old face. (They remind me of my grandmother who was a fashion goddess and badass.) My clothes are simple, clean lined, tailored, classic with a splash of something fun a la Dacy's suggestion. I don't live and breathe high fashion. I can't afford to and I have nowhere else to go except to medical appointments, a fancy restaurant once a month, Trader Joe's, Walgreens, and Whole Foods Market.
I admit I did love it on Saturday when a Gen Xer yelled from her dining table on the patio of a posh restaurant, "Sister girl, you are rocking the outfit." I was wearing grey, Wrangler overalls! I took care with the blouse, shoes, bag, accessories. And yea, my overalls were straight from the cleaners so pristine. I was on my way to Trader Joe's. The oversized Moroccan purse I carried was actually Saks version of a grocery bag.
Ultimately, for whom do I dress? I've thought about it a lot since this conversation started a couple weeks ago. I dress for me because pretty clothes make me feel pretty. As I've joined the ranks of invisible women, I'm tickled when someone whom the world sees as still fuckable yells HUZZAH to my style while I'm on my way to buy cherries and hummus. It's a cool thing. Certainly not as ego boosting as the presidency to Joe Biden, but good for the old spirit.
Do I feel I must do it? No. If it felt like work I wouldn't participate. I don't have much capacity for work of any kind, much to several important people's chagrin. Life is just too hard in nearly every way to pile on work, guilt, shame, responsibility to look a certain way. There are far more important things going on in all of our lives, sometimes life and death things. Helping children grow, keeping them safe, feeding a family, fighting illness (yours or someone else's), earning a living, maintaining the sometimes elusive even keel my psychiatrist goes on about. These things and more take real energy. If we're adding dressing for acceptability to that pile, we must stop. Ultimately the only approving eye that's relevant is our own. Everyone else's eyes are frosting. Few can sustain themselves on frosting.
I work full-time at a job in person where I work with young children and their families. I try to wear clothes that invigorate me at work, and I love coming home, washing my face, and getting my comfies on.
Sometimes putting on jewelry is a small way to get me out of a funk and encourage me to put something else on when I get into a rut. Seeing my glass orb ring and my Victorian rings on my fingers gives me a little jolt of joy every time.
Almost always, the answer to "how much effort do I want to put in to how I look" is 0. None. No time, no energy, no skill in that area. To anyone who is able to deal with makeup or blow drying hair or keeping nails polished: I salute you. That is non-trivial effort.
I do love this question. I am aware of a lot of conflicting tensions it brings up. It's only in the past few years that I've allowed myself to leave the house for non-exercise purposes wearing gym shoes. Otoh, I never wear makeup and I don't dye my hair; I know many women would feel undressed without these things. I have definitely internalized the "look good, but don't look like you are trying" idea. The practical effect of this has been to land on the "don't look like you are trying" side and count on people overlooking me so I can slide by with the not looking good part.
This isn't an ideal solution, but I think internally it is easier for me to shake off the criticism of not trying (I have Reasons! My hands get dirty! I don't have time! It's expensive! I'd rather be reading! I'm a bike commuter!) than it is to shake off the failure of trying to look good and not making it.
I am not confident I could look good even if I tried, so I don't try.
I see this a lot with clients - they want to express a style or feel better in their clothes and the tactic theyve always taken is to fully opt out because if they opt our then they can't fail. And again - how subjective "good" is. If you feel comfortable and happy with the effort you're putting in, you'll look good to me 🤷🏻♀️
Age has really helped me mellow with a lot of this (I'll be 54 in August). I have a very casual personal style, I work from home, I'm most comfy in a wide-leg flowy pant paired with wide boxy top. My closet is filled with variations on this uniform.
I do think I have too much clothing though, and I struggle to cull it. I think for years I bought anything that fit my body, whether I actually *liked* it or not. I'm on the cusp of straight sizes, usually most comfy with a plus fit. My sense of personal style has been so wonderfully expanded by seeing bodies like mine on Instagram and becoming educated on what exists out there in plus size.
I find beautiful things online or in a few consignment shops here in Seattle that miraculously have plus options. Secondhand items have allowed me to try new things/shapes/styles at a reasonable price point. Not everything works but I am having fun. I am still evolving but I like where I'm going :)
As most of you know I have a perfect godson who has perfect 6 month old twins. My godson has grown accustomed to seeing me dressed in a particular fashion, one we might call "put together tastefully." This has become challenging when visiting infants, one of whom christens me with vomit EVERY SINGLE VISIT. I've taken to planning my wardrobe around his little custom. It's become a family joke and everyone cheers when he "gifts" me. That said, I still put myself together "tastefully." I just wear white cotton so the curdled milk blends in. It makes me laugh.
When asking myself how much effort I wish to put forth, the answer is middling. I keep my hair and nails groomed, lipstick always on. I've never worn makeup of any kind, no waxing or shaving. I have a slight mustache and white whiskers which are charming additions to my 66 year old face. (They remind me of my grandmother who was a fashion goddess and badass.) My clothes are simple, clean lined, tailored, classic with a splash of something fun a la Dacy's suggestion. I don't live and breathe high fashion. I can't afford to and I have nowhere else to go except to medical appointments, a fancy restaurant once a month, Trader Joe's, Walgreens, and Whole Foods Market.
I admit I did love it on Saturday when a Gen Xer yelled from her dining table on the patio of a posh restaurant, "Sister girl, you are rocking the outfit." I was wearing grey, Wrangler overalls! I took care with the blouse, shoes, bag, accessories. And yea, my overalls were straight from the cleaners so pristine. I was on my way to Trader Joe's. The oversized Moroccan purse I carried was actually Saks version of a grocery bag.
Ultimately, for whom do I dress? I've thought about it a lot since this conversation started a couple weeks ago. I dress for me because pretty clothes make me feel pretty. As I've joined the ranks of invisible women, I'm tickled when someone whom the world sees as still fuckable yells HUZZAH to my style while I'm on my way to buy cherries and hummus. It's a cool thing. Certainly not as ego boosting as the presidency to Joe Biden, but good for the old spirit.
Do I feel I must do it? No. If it felt like work I wouldn't participate. I don't have much capacity for work of any kind, much to several important people's chagrin. Life is just too hard in nearly every way to pile on work, guilt, shame, responsibility to look a certain way. There are far more important things going on in all of our lives, sometimes life and death things. Helping children grow, keeping them safe, feeding a family, fighting illness (yours or someone else's), earning a living, maintaining the sometimes elusive even keel my psychiatrist goes on about. These things and more take real energy. If we're adding dressing for acceptability to that pile, we must stop. Ultimately the only approving eye that's relevant is our own. Everyone else's eyes are frosting. Few can sustain themselves on frosting.
making the level of effort you do obviously brings you joy, Anita and that's a great reason to keep doing it!
I work full-time at a job in person where I work with young children and their families. I try to wear clothes that invigorate me at work, and I love coming home, washing my face, and getting my comfies on.
Sometimes putting on jewelry is a small way to get me out of a funk and encourage me to put something else on when I get into a rut. Seeing my glass orb ring and my Victorian rings on my fingers gives me a little jolt of joy every time.
I love that.
Almost always, the answer to "how much effort do I want to put in to how I look" is 0. None. No time, no energy, no skill in that area. To anyone who is able to deal with makeup or blow drying hair or keeping nails polished: I salute you. That is non-trivial effort.
I do love this question. I am aware of a lot of conflicting tensions it brings up. It's only in the past few years that I've allowed myself to leave the house for non-exercise purposes wearing gym shoes. Otoh, I never wear makeup and I don't dye my hair; I know many women would feel undressed without these things. I have definitely internalized the "look good, but don't look like you are trying" idea. The practical effect of this has been to land on the "don't look like you are trying" side and count on people overlooking me so I can slide by with the not looking good part.
This isn't an ideal solution, but I think internally it is easier for me to shake off the criticism of not trying (I have Reasons! My hands get dirty! I don't have time! It's expensive! I'd rather be reading! I'm a bike commuter!) than it is to shake off the failure of trying to look good and not making it.
I am not confident I could look good even if I tried, so I don't try.
I see this a lot with clients - they want to express a style or feel better in their clothes and the tactic theyve always taken is to fully opt out because if they opt our then they can't fail. And again - how subjective "good" is. If you feel comfortable and happy with the effort you're putting in, you'll look good to me 🤷🏻♀️
Age has really helped me mellow with a lot of this (I'll be 54 in August). I have a very casual personal style, I work from home, I'm most comfy in a wide-leg flowy pant paired with wide boxy top. My closet is filled with variations on this uniform.
I do think I have too much clothing though, and I struggle to cull it. I think for years I bought anything that fit my body, whether I actually *liked* it or not. I'm on the cusp of straight sizes, usually most comfy with a plus fit. My sense of personal style has been so wonderfully expanded by seeing bodies like mine on Instagram and becoming educated on what exists out there in plus size.
I find beautiful things online or in a few consignment shops here in Seattle that miraculously have plus options. Secondhand items have allowed me to try new things/shapes/styles at a reasonable price point. Not everything works but I am having fun. I am still evolving but I like where I'm going :)
I love that for you Amy!