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Day 256, The real blog
There was a time in my life I was so interested in fashion. Not high fashion, mind you. Just looking good and feeling good.
There wasn’t a lot of excess money when I was in high school, so I wore the basics and never really thought much about it. Mom had been diagnosed with terminal cancer and the rest of the world just seemed to float by me. What I wore or what I did to my hair did not seem to matter all that much. All my friends were very conscious of their clothes, even though I’m not sure why. It was the early 70’s in central Ohio and let’s just say it was not the fashion capital of the world. I did have a pair or two of ‘hot pants’ but for the most part, I just dressed to get out the door.
After high school, I joined the Air Force. This would be the first time I earned my own money and could spend it on anything I wanted. It was a foreign world. People from all over thrust together in dormitories left to their own devices to find themselves and their tribe. Being in the military meant my daily attire was issued by Uncle Sam as was my food and a place to live. That meant all the money I made was disposable income — at least for me. I was too young and free to be thinking about my future.
Bell-bottoms were the rage as were peasant blouses. I wore my hair long and straight. I spent a lot of money on clothes and shoes. If I wore jeans, I ripped the hems out, frayed the edges, and sewed ‘cute’ (not functional) patches on them. When not in uniform, I was dressed suited for whatever occasion. Halter tops and platform shoes, headbands and arm bracelets, Tabu and crushed velvet, and always blue eye shadow.
Reader’s Digest version of my life follows…
Fast-forward through life a little. Marriages (and not good ones), children, work and of course age takes a toll. My self-esteem was shot and slowly I lost the desire to worry about fashion. Divorce helped, but it would be a while before I came into my own again. I found a nice job and I was good at it. I worked my way up the corporate ladder and I dressed the part.
But outside of work, I wasn’t dating or trying to impress anyone.
I eventually fell in love again and love sure does boost one’s self-esteem. I started caring again about how I looked to others. Eventually, I remarried and found happiness again. The funny thing about love, though, is it is easy to get comfortable and get into a rut with how you dress and how you look. Today I’m a jeans and sweats girl. I like comfort. Years of wearing heels have made me appreciate shoes that are easy to wear — I hesitate to say comfortable shoes but let’s be honest, that’s what I like.
If there is any special occasion in my life, it might require me to either pull out something ill-fitting from my wardrobe or else I may need to make a special purchase.
The funny thing is I am not uncomfortable with this version of me. Since retiring, I have taken more interest in how I look and feel. I am happy with who I am and when I am happy, everything else comes naturally. Well, everything but this hair. That needs professional attention.
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