I get it. As we move through our phases of life, our personal styles change – mostly because our bodies, preferences and moods seem to shift like the wind. And, at some point we reach a time when “age appropriate dressing” is a thing. Obviously the clothing I wore in my 20’s would in no way look good on me thirty years later, and I have begrudgingly accepted this. Although I do from time to time see other women out there who didn’t get that memo, and more power to them. Perhaps they have a magical mirror in their home which I lack.
There are of course other factors at play that influence our ever-changing closets. Careers, social activities and hobbies can cause us to make fairly drastic edits to our bodily adornments. This past weekend I was shopping with a friend, and she was explaining that they were instituting a revised dress code at her work, encouraging an overall movement to look more corporate and dressy than many of them had in the past. While she looked at suits, I looked at business casual. She would hold up a cute blouse and say “I suppose I could wear this on weekends” and my response was “I could wear that to the office.”
Beyond our jobs, though, is what I’d call Situational Style. When I was younger, I had reasons to dress up fairly often for events like graduations, weddings, anniversaries, and special parties. Now that I’m older, most of our activities are more casual – outdoor events, BBQ’s, gatherings at the homes of friends… very rarely do I need something dressy. I haven’t needed the infamous “little black dress” in years.
But once in a while, there is the need to take it up a notch. I have attended two parties this summer that required a dress, and this weekend we will be attending the wedding of the daughter of dear friends. Being a typical girly-girl, I look forward to dress-up moments. The men in my life, however, not so much. When my son was a baby and toddler, I had great fun dressing him in all sorts of adorable and snazzy outfits – because he at the time had no say in the matter nor preference. But times change.
Since we are on a budget, we try to make do with what we can find in our closets, and add accessories as needed. In an effort to avoid last minute panic, earlier this week I asked both my husband and my son to look at what they have to determine what they can wear to the wedding, and to determine if we need to make a Kohl’s run for new shirts or pants. Here’s how some of that process went:
My son: “Well, like what should I wear? A dress shirt and nice pants?”
Me: “Yes, like a pair of dress slacks or khaki’s and a button-down nice shirt – but you could probably do short sleeves.”
Son, with sharp intake of breath. “Uhhhh, khaki’s would be tough. The ones I have don’t fit anymore.”
Me, inwardly thinking this is why I’ve asked you to clean out your closet: “Ok, do you have other nice pants?”
Son: “Umm… maybe…. I think so. But what should I wear for shoes?”
Me: “You have those nice tan shoes, do those still fit?”
Son, my teen fashion-forward young man, making a face: “Oh, those wouldn’t match my dress pants at ALL….”
Me, sighing: “Well, sort through what you have tomorrow so if we have to go get something new, we’ll still have time.” Clearly knowing, of course, that this process has only just begun, and a solution will only happen shortly before we have to pack to leave on Friday.
Next I moved into our bedroom, and had a similar conversation with my husband about what would be appropriate to wear. I know he has pants to choose from. The issue for him may be shirts. He put on a nice short-sleeve shirt. “Do you think I could wear this one?”
Me: “Possibly, if you wear nice navy slacks with it.”
Him: “What would I wear for a tie?”
Me: “You wouldn’t. Not with that kind of shirt. But I think that’s ok.”
Him: “I don’t know what else I have that would be good….”
Me: “Well, you have time, you could run out to get something.”
Him: “But how do I know what size to get, like neck size and stuff?”
Me, sighing: “If you aren’t buying a long sleeve dress shirt and aren’t wearing a tie, you won’t need to know your neck size.” Then, repeating myself word for word from 15 minutes prior in my son’s room: “Well, sort through what you have tomorrow so if we have to go get something new, we’ll still have time.” Still knowing, of course, that this process has only just begun, and a solution will only happen shortly before we have to pack to leave on Friday. Seeing a pattern here?
This morning, it was my turn. I pulled two dresses out of the back of my closet, in an effort to find something else to wear instead of the dress I’ve already worn to two other events this summer. Because, well, variety is the spice of life. Good news, they fit. Sort of. I’ve had both dresses for quite a while, and both were purchased before my menopausal weight gain and the addition of Poochy, my pet name for my over-50 stomach. Looking face-on in the mirror, with a good bra to keep the girls in place, I looked pretty good. Back view, although wishing my butt was about 3” higher like it used to be, not too bad either. Side view however, ugh. The amazing thing about over-50 weight gain, is that no manner of “sucking it in” will help. It just hangs out there for all to see. Hence why so many of us wear loose flowy things. These dresses are not loose and flowy. Undecided, I hung both dresses back up and went rummaging around in the rarely-worn part of my underwear drawer to determine if I still own spanx.
In the end, I will likely choose the dress I’m more comfortable in, whichever one feels more summer wedding-ish, and to whichever one I can best match existing shoes and jacket. Because that’s the other thing that changes over time. When selecting a great outfit for an event, two key requirements bubble up to the top: ease and comfort. Gone are the days of taking hours to prepare, and spending hours not being able to breathe and move.
After the wedding, we will come home, get our fancy duds cleaned and hung up, and we will probably not see them again for some time. Long enough, I’m sure, for my son to outgrow the pants again, and for my matronly shape to no longer look right in the same dress. But that’s all right. Because we have shorts, jeans and t-shirts that fit just fine in the meantime.
It’s been an eventful week. My stepson was in a major car accident (thankfully walking away with only minor injuries), my older brother’s health is declining (again), and my husband just lost his job. On a scale of 1 – 10 for good days, these rank somewhere in the negative numbers. And somewhere wedged in between all of this activity, I was away at a work conference for two days. As I drove home through busy traffic today, I had an overwhelming desire to do one simple thing when I got home…
After three years and approximately 108,000 words, I have a very very rough draft of my first novel done. It will likely take another two+ years and much re-work, editing, adding, subtracting, and re-writing to get it even close to a point where it would be appropriate for any other eyes to read it. But I have the skeleton – or rather, a messy collection of bones – done. The base work is complete. And before I dive right back in to start the next phase of hard work to make something of it, I’m taking a moment.
I had to travel for work last week. Which meant that for six days, the guys of my household (husband, son and Labrador) were on their own at home. This is certainly not the first time I’ve been away from home, and I will say that all three of them survive just fine when I’m not there.
We women are strong, smart, independent, and fiercely tenacious. We’ve worked hard for a lot of years to reach as close to gender equality as possible with the men of the world. Although it isn’t perfect, we have done a lot to level the playing field. Speaking of playing fields, when I was in eighth grade, I was on the first-ever girl’s soccer team at my school. Imagine that — seems kind of crazy now that women’s sports weren’t always a thing. We’ve come a long way, baby.
It was just another average R.W. kinda morning. Similar, I’m sure, to most of your mornings. While I was getting myself ready for work, I was multi-tasking other activities. Folded a load of laundry, did some dishes. Gave the dog his medicine, left a note for my son. Took care of a few emails, paid a bill online. Jotted down a couple reminders on post-it notes. Tidied up the living room and cleared off the kitchen table. Got on the phone to try to follow up on a doctor’s appointment for my handicapped brother. Along about the time I was giving the dog his good-bye treat, holding the door open with my foot while balancing my work bag and purse over my shoulder, one hand holding the phone to my ear listening to the Doctor’s Office scheduler describe how they didn’t have updated contact information and needed to reschedule his appointment while I was bending over to pick up the small bag of trash I had dropped and needed to deposit in the can at the bottom of the driveway (in the rain) – it hit me. “Damn. I could really use an Assistant.”
Relaxing is not always easy for real women. We get so wound up about everything we “gotta do”, and all the people we have to take care of, that we rarely clock out, go off duty, and slow down. Usually we only feel like we can really take time “off” by scheduling an actual vacation – for a day, a weekend, a week, it doesn’t matter the amount of time. We just have to physically remove ourselves from our usual daily activities and responsibilities. Although even going on vacation does not guarantee our time off, especially for any of us who travel with young children, or elderly parents. But we make the valiant effort, with images dancing in our heads of napping on a beach, rocking in a porch chair or even curled up someplace peaceful with a good book.
When I was a young girl, our house was broken into and robbed. Actually, “broken into” isn’t really accurate. Back then, we lived out in the country, in a lovely little town, and we didn’t lock our doors. I know, sounds crazy now, right? It was a different world then. My mom had taken my brother to a weekly appointment, and while they were gone we figure the thieves had been watching her regular schedule and knew they had some time to let themselves in and do some free shopping.
We all run through life in turbo drive, every day trying to do more in less time. We live in a magical world where new conveniences pop up regularly, developed to match our speed, our lack of patience, and our need to “get ‘er done.” Yet amazingly, we still yearn for faster and better.
The National Sleep Foundation recommends adults age 26 – 64 should get 7 – 9 hours of sleep each night. So let’s take a quick poll. Real Women out there in that age range, how many of you average 7 – 9 hours of sleep each night? How many have had that many hours of sleep in just one night in the past two weeks? Past month? Yeeeaaahhhh, I kinda thought so.
Real Women 