But standing there facing my closet - teeming with choices and looking like there was “Joseph and his Technicolor Dreamcoat” ready to leap out at me like a Jack-in-the-box - I realized it seemed like I had absolutely nothing to wear.
So like every other one-time fashionista does when faced with a challenge … let me stop you there. That’s just it, I’ve never really been a fashionista. Sure I know what looks good on my frame and I like certain looks, but in reality, I’ve rested on other fashion forward friends for advice, taste and yes, there was never any shame in hand me downs.
So I-picked a pair of black slacks and a black turtleneck and called it a day. And the next day, another pair of black slacks, this time with a slightly wider leg, and a V-neck black sweater, and off I went. Black shoes, black overcoat, black bag. And standing there waiting for the bus, I felt, dare I say, I felt chic. I started getting compliments on my savvy and sophisticated style. My entire adult life has been separated into work and play, day and night and ne’er the twain shall meet. With the new look I realized I could be comfortable, stylish and not spend 20 minutes staring blankly at my clothes-filled dungeon with system overload at the cacophony that was my closet.