Style...I need a new STYLE!!!

I have come to realize that I have no distinct “style” at all. I recently went through my closet and tried on every piece of clothing I owned. I gave away 6 Hefty Bags full of clothes to my sister. After losing almost 70 pounds, I don’t have that much that fits me anymore. During this “clothes trying on” session, I came to realize that most of the clothing I buy is loose, baggy and “comfortable.” I don’t really have anything that’s stylish or happening.

I guess part of the issue was that when I was so large, the LAST thing I wanted to do was call attention to my body. As long as I was covered up, I was happy. I always sing the refrain, “Modest is Hottest!” and I do believe it….but I also hide behind it. Is it really immodest to show your knee caps or your arms above the elbow? Not so much. But when you are 300+ pounds, it’s just not an appealing thought. I mean, I’d LOVE to wear a tank-top in the summer time, but the thought of my upper arm fat “bat-wings” flapping in the wind is a pretty strong deterrent. Same issue with my legs….when your knee caps have knee caps and your calves have their own zip codes: longer dresses and long pants just feel safer.

But now……now I am feeling a little bit ready to venture out into the world of fashion. Now, I’m not talking Lady Gaga fashion or Channel or anything like that. I just simply want a “style” to call my own. Something classy….timeless…and something that looks pulled together and not just thrown-on. My favorite styles I guess fall under the category of “Vintage.” I love, love, love the dresses from the 1940’s and 1950’s! Kind of a mixture of “I Love Lucy” meets “Happy Days” meets “Leave it to Beaver.” The bad thing about it is, I end up more in the “Aunt Bea from Mayberry” category if I’m not careful. Yes. I tend to look very FRUMPY and old-lady-ish if I’m not careful.

I’d love nothing better than to wear dresses with cap-sleeves, dainty waistlines and flared skirts with pretty pumps and a string of pearls, a cloche hat and a pair of white gloves. Of course, this is a style that looks PERFECT on a tall willowy model….and on me: Aunt Bea Frumpy. Now, don’t get me wrong….I do love me some Aunt Bea! And I think she was a marvelous cook with a big heart and she was a very loving character….but she wasn’t the prettiest or most attractive gal in Mayberry. Some days, I just want to feel pretty. Like Maria in ‘West Side Story’!!! I want to sing, “I feel pretty! O so pretty!” And instead, most days….I look in the mirror and with a heavy sigh whisper to myself, “Well, I guess that will have to do.”

I’m on the road to making peace with my body. I’m exercising and I’m amazed at how much stronger I’m becoming. My body is shrinking, but with the shrinkage comes sag-age as well. My skin is not as “elastic” as it used to be and doesn’t spring back. The newly discovered lines and wrinkles on my face don’t really bother me…I feel like I’ve earned those. Even the crows feet (that resemble pterodactyl feet some mornings) lining my eyes aren’t all that awful and bothersome. But the saggy skin under my arms and my boobies that now look like 2 grapefruits swinging at the end of very long tube socks when I lean over….well, that is another story altogether. Talk about a confidence shaker! Haha!

Anyway. I digress. (I know, it’s shocking, right??)  I am not on the search for some sense of my own personal “style.” I don’t quite know what that looks like yet. I have been looking on Pinterest and I found several outfits and dresses that appeal to me….but I’m not sure how that would translate in real life. Clothing tends to look different on models than on my Rubenesque and curvy countenance. (Rubenesque sounds so much prettier than Plus-Size, doesn’t it?)  I’ve been looking in magazines, browsing catalogues, scoping out the clothing in stores, looking on Pinterest, noticing what other women are wearing……and I’m trying to piece together some semblance of how I want to look.

Even though my size is much smaller than it was, in my head….I still feel very large; this makes me wary of so many types of clothing. My mind set: Nothing with a dropped waist or pheasant style (They look like maternity tops on me!). Nothing fitted. Elastic waistbands. Muted or dark monotone colors. I have to get over this mindset, or else everything I chose will still be too big, too boxy and not-flattering….and I end right back up at FRUMPY again.

I also want to experiment with makeup! I bought some new eye-shadow that supposedly formulated to enhance blue eyes. I tried it on this morning….but I can’t decide if it makes me look eye-enhanced… or like Sadie the Painted Lady. There has to be a balance to strike between the two extremes. I guess the problem is that I never really learned how to apply make-up “the right way.” I pretty much just started slathering it on once I reached the magical era of 8th grade and was allowed to wear it. And that was during an era of frosted blue eye-shadow and neon-pink lipstick. I am proud to say that the frosted blue eye shadow and neon pink lipstick went the way of my roller-skates and staying up until 2am (thankfully, they’re ALL long gone).

Once I went to Merle Norman to have my make-up done and try to learn to do it myself. I left looking like a confused clown with bright neon yellow and navy blue eye shadow and the bright orange slashes of blush down my cheeks that resembled angry war-paint. I never went back. Another time, I went to the Clinique counter at an upscale department store to have my make-up done and try to get some instruction on how to apply cosmetics. That lady was more concerned about my pores than anything else and kept fixating on exfoliation. By the time she finished scrubbing and exfoliating my face (with this white pad that resembled a Brillo pad, mind you!), my face was red and blotchy and there was no point in even trying to apply make-up. So I gave up and went back to my Cover Girl make-up that I could buy at Wal-Mart. I’ve been wearing my make-up the exact same way since way back then. I feel like I’m in a bit of a rut, to say the least. I have toyed with the idea of getting my make-up “done” again….but like they say… “twice burned, thrice shy.” And have you SEEN some of the folks who work at the make-up counters these days?? I’m terrified I’d walk away looking like a Gothic Emo chick, a plucked minimalist chicken or an Andy Warhol painting!! Guess I’ll stick to my own bathroom mirror experimentation for now. Maybe I’ll gather up enough guts, nerve and moxie to brave an “expert” again in the future. Maybe.

Perhaps what I need is a personal fashion consultant! Some honest, but kind….who will shoot straight, but not shoot my heart out….to go with me and give me feed-back on the things I try on. Someone to say, “Really?” or to say, “REALLY!!” so that I would have a clue as to what looks good. Haha! Now taking applications for a personal fashion consultant!!!  

Hope SPRINGS Eternal

I’m pretty sure I have a bit of early-onset spring fever today.  I feel lazy and the only thing I really want to do is go outside and soak up some sunshine.  Instead, I’m stuck in my office behind a desk; At least there is a window and I can look outside and see the sunshine!  The sky has been that beautiful color of blue…that azure kind of blue that makes your eyes water with it’s brightness and the air is clear and crisp and the perfectness of the way it looks just squeezes my heart and makes it ache a little with the beauty of it all.  The grass is starting to turn green and looks soft and lush in tufts and patches.  It makes my feet itch to kick off my shoes and socks just to feel the cool silky softness of the new grass on my bare feet!  It’s still too cool for such shenanigans…but I have the itch anyway.   I remember growing up that my Grandma wouldn’t allow us to go barefoot until the first day of May every year.  It about drove me BANANAS waiting on May-Day so I could be free of my shoes!  (I’ve always hated wearing shoes!)  The first day of May, she would allow us to take off our shoes and run around the house ONE time. We’d run like crazed hooligans with big goofy grins on our faces, hooting and hollering like convicts just outta the big-house.   Then we had to put our shoes back on until the next day….when we were granted a whole TWO laps around the house, then on the third day, we’d get THREE laps….  She usually just gave up and let us run around barefoot all the time after about the third day.  It was such a fun ritual back then!  J  I looked forward to it all spring!   Kind of like waiting for Easter so that we could wear our white shoes!  We always got a new pair of white shoes…usually white patent leather shoes to wear with our Easter dress to church! Beginning about Valentine’s Day, I’d looked forward to wearing those new white shoes on Easter Sunday! 

Spring time always turns my mind to rebirth, renewal and new beginnings!   The way the tender shoots of green plants start poking their shy heads through the rich brown dirt, the way the birds sing in the early morning mist and the way the tree branches that have been so bare all winter become fuzzy on the tips before breaking forth in full leaf…..all of these things hint at starting over.  The warmer spring days and sunshine mark an end to the bleak coldness of winter and make me feel so hopeful and full of promise.  I love the color palate that spring boasts:  the pastel purple of hyacinths, the pale yellow of daffodils, the vibrant neon yellow-green of new grass, the creamy whites and pinks of dogwoods in bloom – they are all so very beautiful!  The whole world looks like an Easter Basket!  I love that Easter is in the spring….symbolizing the ultimate re-birth!  So many, many spring mornings, I can almost hear the song by Sandi Patti in my head, “Was it a morning like this?” Especially the lines that ask, “Did the Grass sing?  Did the earth rejoice to feel you again?”  It just fills me with such gladness and promise. 

I love the milder temperatures that allow us to venture back outside after our winter confinements indoors.  I like the brisk March breezes that tease the new leaves and make the daffodils bob their heavy yellow heads up and down, like they are keeping time with a groovy tune that is just out of my earshot.  I love trading heavy coats for light sweaters and I like the cool nights when it’s still nice to cuddle up by a fire.  I like the return of all the songbirds from their winter homes.  I like the flurry of activity as they prepare their new nests, gather food and chose their mates and prepare to raise their baby birds.  I like to make sure I keep my bird feeders full this time of year so that I can spy on this wonderful homecoming and listen in to the happy chirping and tweeting.  It’s hard not to smile when the morning sun is warming your face and the birds are singing their morning songs. 

I like planning my garden and choosing what I want to grow for the season.  Herbs…always herbs!  They smell and taste so wonderful!  And tomatoes…I dream of big, red, juicy globes of sweet tomato-y goodness!  I almost always plant peppers and marigolds.  Marigolds seem like a sweet old-fashioned lady in a garden!  They say that marigolds help keep other pests away from your tomato plants, but I love them for their cherry yellow and orange colors and simply because they remind me of my sweet Mamaw.  She always grew marigolds and I can still remember that “marigold smell” that would get on my hands when we would pinch off the heads of the spent flowers and let them dry so that we could salvage the seeds and grow another crop of marigolds!  Seemingly hundreds of seeds from one single flower! Talk about possibilities!  I also love Zinnias – just because they come in a rainbow of colors (like a box of crayons!) and look so happy.  I like cannas, iris and roses too.  I love plants that come back year after year, just like old friends.

I love how the daylight stays a little longer each day, stretching our time for walking, grilling or just enjoying a mild evening on the porch. I don’t even really mind losing an hour of sleep when time “springs forward” because it means lighter, longer and more productive evenings at home.  My Mamaw didn’t like the time change though; she called it “that old fast time” and would always complain that we shouldn’t mess with what God had given us.  That argument used to crack me up when I was a little girl. 

One thing I wasn’t too crazy about in the spring time was Mamaw’s “spring cleaning.”   That was an area where there was NO compromise and laziness was not tolerated.  Spring cleaning meant (among other things) that on a warm, pretty, sunny day, the storm windows would be taken down, the windows opened and cleaned.  Thoroughly.  The window sills were scrubbed with bleach water and a scrub-brush; the baseboards and all the trim work in the house got the same treatment, only with an old toothbrush.  She even washed down the kitchen walls and the bathroom walls with bleach water.  The windows were cleaned until they sparkled.  All the curtains came down for a good washing and ironing and all the doilies on the coffee table and end tables were washed and then re-starched until they were stiff as boards.  We moved all the furniture and cleaned underneath and behind everything.  Everything came out of the kitchen cabinets and we scrubbed the shelves.  All our clothes were washed and we’d open up what she called “The Cedar Chest” and pull out our summer and spring clothes and store away our sweaters and winter things, along with copious amounts of moth-balls to keep them safe.  If I think on it hard enough, I can still smell that moth-ball smell!  Spring cleaning was no small feat.  It usually took 1-2 weeks for us to complete all of the tasks on her spring-cleaning list.  As children, we dreaded that list!!! Haha! Looking back, it really wasn’t all that terrible….and we certainly had fun with it too.  And now….now, I’d give just about anything for just an hour of scrubbing those window sills with her again, just so I could hear her laughter and hear her stories about how hard it was hard for her to the oldest and the only girl with 9 little brothers when she was growing up.  I miss her so much that my heart is still breaking and I’m still grieving the loss- five years after her death; even as I type this, I can hardly see the screen for my hot tears.  I’m just so glad that I don’t have to grieve as someone who has no hope…..for I know with a certainty that she is waiting for me to join her in Glory – where there are no more sad good-byes. It's a hope that, if you will pardon the pun...."Springs Eternal!"