So where the hell have I been? I've been around, reading but not writing. Busy turning forty, thinking about my life and goals, granting myself a measure of self-acceptance and pursuing serenity in the midst of some personal crises, some minor, another of which has yet to be categorized as to magnitude. No worries just yet. Some attitude adjustments have been made to deal with the minor and as for the unknown, I'm just trying to keep breathing and smiling until it's resolved.

Haven't felt much like writing lately, but since I have a rare day off and delectably alone; and having already happily taken full advantage of the opportunity to diddle myself silly in front of the computer, the following fluffy entry began to take shape. It's rather sad that that's all I can come up with after weeks of living away from the computer, but what the hell. Occasional displays of shallowness and self-absorption help keep this diary well-rounded. < cough >

As a person who does enjoy being visually stimulated by interesting people in attractive clothing, I cannot figure out why it is so difficult to see myself with even a tenth of the perception with which I see other people. If I see someone walking through the mall or somewhere and something about the way he or she looks is somehow �off�, I can pretty quickly and easily figure out what it is and how to fix it:

�A mint green capelet and olive green fishnets do NOT belong in the same outfit.� (This outfit was obviously planned to look funky and stylish, and it was so ugly I actually followed its owner around the bookstore�at a safe distance, of course, peering through shelves and around corners�to gape at her in fascinated horror. Obviously there is at least one other person on the earth who shares my problem.)

�That lipstick is way too coral for her cool skin tone. A berry or watermelon shade would be much more flattering. And she�s gone completely mad with the tweezers. Her brows look positively naked.�

�She�d look about 15 years younger if she�d lose the leathery tan and bleach-damaged blonde hair.�

Or even someone I know:

�Why did she dye her hair that godawful shade of auburn? Her dark hair and eyes along with her pale white skin used to be her best feature. Now she just looks puffy and tired.�

But when it comes to myself, I see nothing. NOTHING. I have no taste, no sense of whether something is retarded-looking or funkishly cool. For example� I have this one skirt that I really liked. It�s a three-tiered cotton dealie with each tier a different color of plaid� two different blue plaids and a red. It has a western, prairie kind of look to it. Back in the early nineties when I bought it, I thought it looked pretty spiffy on the mannequin with a denim shirt and cowgirl boots. Of course, I never wore it like that. I wore it with a cream-colored t-shirt, black suede vest and flats. And it looked pretty good. At least I think it did� my gay boss complimented me on it one time, that must mean something good, right?

Anyway� I�ve long since lost the vest, and never did get around to picking up any western-style accessories. At this point the skirt is old enough to be completely outdated, but not yet vintage. And yet I, in all my fashion-impaired gooberness, I pull this skirt out and wear it to work. With a plain t-shirt, tights and clogs... oh, and topped off with a Ma Ingalls crocheted shawl. I�ve even worn it out to dinner over an otherwise all-black ensemble� shirt, tights, high-heeled shoe-boots. No funky or clever accessories, nothing, just this dumb-looking skirt that I pull out and wear like I just bought it last week. And I�m happy as a clam. Until our office fashion-plate teased me�not in a mean way, she�s funny and sarcastic and our working relationship is just LIKE that�about being dressed for a hoedown, and it got me to thinking. I can�t picture a single even vaguely stylish person I know wearing my prairie skirt and pulling it off. It can�t even be gothed, punked or funked into looking cool. This skirt is OUT. Faded, dated, and goofy-looking. And me prancing about in it, thinking I look pretty ok.

Why can I not SEE me when I look at me?

Even though I�ve casually studied color theory both as it relates to art and to makeup and dress since I was a teenager, in 40 years I have not been able to identify my skin tone as �warm� or �cool�. My skin is pale with a rosy pinkish cast (�cool�) but my freckles look golden to me (�warm�). My natural hair is an ashy dishwater blonde (�cool�) but the medium golden brown I�ve been dying it for years is, I think, flattering. I have finally, just these past few weeks, figured it out. I�m letting my natural hair color grow out, and the silvery white streaks in my ash brown hair definitely point to �cool.� That and the fact that I�m now finding my hair and complexion are flattered by cool blues, pale teals, icy pinks, cool purples, plummy reds, and pure white. Suddenly I�m doing color and liking it! Black and khaki are not bad though, so I�m still using them for my neutrals out of necessity � for one thing, I can�t afford to replace my entire wardrobe at once so I�m concentrating on shirts and blouses right now; and also, at the moment I can�t find any fucking pants that fit me right. Other than jeans which are only acceptable on casual Fridays, I�ve got two pair of pants I can wear to work: a pair of khaki Dockers with pleats in the front that I kind of hate, and a pair of black cotton �jeans� that fit perfectly so naturally Lane Bryant no longer carries them. If I had known they weren�t a staple item in the LB stores I�d have bought 20 pairs, I swear to god. Pants shopping is my goddamn nightmare.

I�m still trying to figure out what I look and feel my best in, and I�ve discovered a couple of things I should have been able to figure out before now. For instance, the reason I go back and forth with hating my long hair and wanting to cut it all off, and wanting to keep it and maybe even grow it longer, is because I only hate my hair part-time. When I�m at work, mostly. And why is that? Well, as I�ve FINALLY figured out, it�s because at work I tend to wear clothes with a neat, tailored look, and tailored clothing does not go very well with straggily, unkempt hair. A neat ponytail would solve the problem if it weren�t for the fact that I look awful with my hair skinned back. So half the time I was pulling it back and hating it, and the other half letting it hang and hating it, and on the weekends I was wearing softer clothes and mysteriously liking my hair a little better.

Over the past few weeks I�ve gotten so aggravated with looking like ass at work that I was seriously ready to go get my hair all hacked off. The Prince has no idea how close we came to having The Talk that he dreads�the one where I tell him that I am very sorry but I can no longer stand the long hair that he loves, and that I think 5 years of being miserable with it for his sake is enough. I was about to request that he begin trying getting used to the idea of me with shorter hair, because I had decided that what I wanted for my 40th birthday was a REAL haircut. As in, shoulder length or shorter.

And then came a weekend in which, to my surprise, I realized my hair actually looked pretty, and I decided to spare my husband The Talk. Followed by a Monday in which I looked in the mirror at work, and yet again HATED my fucking hair with a passion.

And then I had a glimmer of an insight.

Is it my imagination, or does wavy, messy hair somehow clash with vertical stripes?

All this time I thought my horrible hair was the problem, but that was the first time I began to suspect that it�s the clothes I gravitate to for work that were all wrong for my hairstyle (or more accurately, the lack thereof.) Now, if I was a lawyer or a banker the hair would be a problem, but seeing as how I currently work in a more casual environment with a relaxed dress code (and probably always will,) there is no reason I can�t wear less severe styles that look more appropriate with messy-gypsy hair. I�m thinking soft silky blouses when I want a dressy look, less-structured cotton blouses in luscious colors and fun prints for more casual wear, well-fitting t-shirts, funky jewelry, scarves, gypsy skirts from THIS decade. And I�m even starting to get the hang of using products to help my hair look messy-wild instead of hillbilly-stringy, and suddenly I�m a whole hell of a lot less depressed about the way I look.

I�m still no fashion plate�I�ve just gotten started and money is, as always, an object. And of course, finding cute stuff at my size falls somewhere in the middle between unlikely and impossible. But at least I�m slowly, surely getting clues as to just what in the hell my fashion problem actually IS.

Maybe by the time I turn eighty I�ll have this shit down cold.

4 felt the need to share

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Last Five
Crappy job crap, weird neighbor, and someone whose baby I apparently want to have - 2006-05-08
Live from the dump - 2006-04-09
Kind of like a muzzle for your brain - 2006-03-29
...and then she fell ass-first into my cereal bowl - 2006-03-28
Playing catch-up - 2006-03-27

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