Sometime during the past week or so, I ran out of clean clothes. Which isn’t to say I ran around town naked; I just had to reach into the depths of my closet to find ANYTHING I could wear in public without either getting cited for indecency or assumed to be an escapee from an insane asylum.
I absolutely hated what I found.
BLACK, BLACK, BLACK, BLACK, BLACK, BLACK, BLACK, BLACK… (you get the picture?)
I used to LOVE wearing black! Tops, bottoms, dresses, skirts, shoes, & tights = ALL BLACK. For a dash of what I mistook for color, I’d cover my black dress with a grey cardigan. That’s what I had to wear Friday.
And, although, I took extra care to look my best, I felt as if I was receding. All the effort I’ve made in the past year to be more “ME” could hardly withstand the nothingness that comes from wearing black.
Why is that we accept, as a culture, that we can’t stand out? When I really look at people in the streets, I see that as we age, our use of color diminishes greatly.
Young kids wear color EVERYWHERE, in all sorts of brilliant & amazing combinations. Parents roll their eyes at Little Jimmy or Jane’s lack of “sense” or ”style”, & then force them to wear something “respectable” either at certain events or as they age. By the time Jimmy & Jane are teens, they’ll wear a colorful tee, but cover it with a less colorful hoodie. By the time they reach adulthood, Jimmy & Jane can hardly be distinguished from their peers; each one of whom is “stylishly” dressed in either blue, black, grey, white, or tan.
Are we really just born so that, by - what, age 25 (?) we can no longer stand out in a crowd?
Nowadays (when I do my laundry, that is), I wear a messload of color. Every time I leave the house, someone - a stranger - will talk to me. They will tell me that (1) they love something I’m wearing; (2) I look good/happy/pretty/cute; (3) they wish they had the courage to look as I do. When people see me, they smile. Kids will gasp & say, “mom! look at her!”. Then they smile.
This universal positive reaction seems to indicate a mutual understanding that color excites our minds, hearts, and our abilities to relate to each other as human beings. People want to interact with people who wear color because it brings out an ability to feel joy. Something, I believe, our typical societal interactions diminishes.
From my perspective, it seems to me, that this diminishment of joy results in our frustrated attempts to find happiness in something else: shopping, food, tv, video games, partying, putting other people down, you name it. Whatever makes us feel like we exist for a moment. That we can connect with someone else, at least about “X”.
Whatever we try, it won’t help because what we really want is that freedom to exist in the world with other human beings who are experiencing joy. I think that’s why kids are practically idolized in our world: because they have it… at least until we beat it out of them.
I’m rebelling BIG TIME against the belief that I have to “fit in”. When I dress, I channel my inner child & let her pick out what I’m going to wear each day. She rarely chooses black. Sometimes, what she chooses makes the adult me feel a bit like a mentally challenged adult, so I encourage her to rethink her choices. In the end, I always come up with an outfit that makes me — & everyone I meet throughout my day — happy.
Though, quite honestly, I’ve never run into the people from “What Not to Wear”. I’m sure they’d have something snarky to say about my clothes. But, like food or anything else we try to use to make us feel better, the thrill they’d get from putting me down wouldn’t last nearly as long as the feeling of happiness I share with the kids in the store who gasp & say “ooooohhhhh!!!” as I walk by, smile, nod, & wave “hi” 
Posted on April 20th, 2009 by lanvin
Filed under: Uncategorized | 5 Comments »
But that’s okay. I’d much rather try to console a friend than lose a pound or two. Maybe I’m not such a bad gal after all