Dressing is communicating.
Note, as young women, our clothes communicate our figures whether we like it or not. I think the species wants to continue, so, we’re built to notice those mechanisms. (To completely strip out romance or the meaning of consciousness, just for now.)
But as we age, and the biological imperative dissipates, leaving us less naturally visible, it’s worth reconsidering just what we want to say about who we are. If we don’t want to disappear, how do we want to show up? I deeply believe that everyone gets to choose. Some of us may prioritize what we usually call figure-flattery. I support that effort. But we don’t owe the world our bodies.
With that preface, here’s what I hope to communicate when I get dressed for the outside world: I’m someone immutably impulsive, irreverent, analytical, intellectual, and passionate. Also I’m enthralled by good design – color, texture, proportion – whether in art, houses, clouds passing across the sky or the way Dries van Noten mixes prints. (Even though Mr. van Noten has retired, his line continues.)
I mean, come on!
But I digress, as we used to say here. Onward. Here’s what I like.
- I generally prefer the intellectual designers, i.e. the Japanese, the Belgians, Prada more than Versace, Christopher John Rogers over Oscar de le Renta.
- A conceptual component, when one is to hand, a butterfly on my graphic tee, or the Comme des Garçon fierce heart.
- Choosing my colors with some care, even if only for a pair of Eileen Fisher pants and t-shirt. I like a slight clash, a little rebellion.
- A beautifully textured fabric-silk, silk and wool faille, cashmere or Sea Island cotton. I think the technical term is a fabric with “a beautiful hand.”
Which brings us to one other component of design: proportion. Space filled, and space empty. Silhouette, shape and balance.
Like several of your I liked this outfit best of last week’s post. But not for showcasing my figure. Talking to a friend later, she suggested it was the proportion, and I agree. Close-fitting top and baggy pants are proportions that agree with my broad shoulders and shorter legs. We can also call it geometry. I’m sure secret math’s involved. Your joyful geometry might be a tunic over light-legged pants. Experiment and record.
Here’s another thing. What’s not on your body is as important as what is. Graphic designers rely on white space. I would rarely wear a bracelet AND a necklace AND earrings unless I wore three necklaces and five bangles and big hoops. Fill space on purpose, leave it bare with intent.
Finally, and quite personally, as we know, when I was young I didn’t particularly enjoy my societally-endorsed figure. I attended a university where my first year the ratio of men:women was 5:1. I developed bulimia. Then I lived in London, then Manhattan, where luckily for me I recovered from bulimia. Big cities are not particularly peaceful places for women to walk. Then I worked in the chemical industry, where the men:women ratio must have been more like 20:1, then I had kids, then I worked in tech. Ratio there maybe 50:1. All of which seems to have built in me an anxiety about pursuit. I am thrilled to give it up. You may feel otherwise.
I enjoy living in this body now, but I only like to flatter it in the male gaze sense when I’m out with my husband. Even now, when nobody cares. This is not to say I don’t run around in yoga pants. I do. But nobody cares! It’s awesome!
As they say, enough about me.
What can you wear that confirms the person, after decades of experience, you’ve decided you are? Color, fabric and proportion are tools. And if design matters to you too, navy looks great with orange, as does pink with red. Search out silk blends. And think of your image in the mirror as Mondrian geometry, if you want to indulge in a little whimsy. Where is the yellow, where the blue?
Have a wonderful weekend. Spend a little time with the sky in the gap between the trees. All my best to all of you.
24 Responses
Here’s to “nobody cares!” and the added lightness that gives to pleasing ourselves. I love the thought you put into what you wear, and the self-awareness and exploration that make what you’ve got on so expressive and right.
My uniform is blue jeans and a black top of some sort. Very rare appearances of muted burgundy, mauve, lilac, eggplant. Mostly black. I feel like it leaves room for me and frees my brain and attention. It also makes things easier when needleworking — what I’m wearing doesn’t distract from what I’m making.
As for messaging . . . One time I was flying out the door to observe an election recount and had just run my dogs. Black boots, blue jeans, black turtleneck, black wool jac-shirt. Covered in dog hair. When I made a vulgar dismayed sound, husband just laughed and steered me toward the door with a “You’re fine — think of it as a rural New England power play!”
I love this entire comment so much. One must never distract from the needlework, real or metaphorical. A rural New England power play is the only good kind:) Also, and always, thank you.
“It leaves room for me and frees my brain and attention” — I love this. I’ve pared down my closet significantly after noticing that no matter how many clothes I have, I only wear the same few simple things that match without effort. Life is hard enough — it should be easy in the little ways we can control. And dog hair just means you are loved. :)
Dog hair just means you are loved!!!
Perfect!
CECI
Thank you for this. I am very intentional about how I dress now. I no longer dress to others’ standards, e.g., corporate America, but to my personal definition of what feels authentic on me. Candidly, some of my friends who do not focus on what they wear have started to find me possibly self-indulgent. I hope, but sometimes I worry, possibly even shallow. Yet, I know it is not. It is about being the most authentic me that I can be. When my external matches my internal, everything hums. I think you understand that.
Maryellen, that is precisely how I feel. I will adjust to my environment, to the occasion, but in so doing I am still being myself. Myself in context, as a choice, rather than adherence to rules that I don’t care about.
What an interesting post with so much to think about!
I have the opposite body type, with a narrow torso and larger hips. I’ve always been told to wear flares/wide legs/full skirts and fitted tops, but I always think that makes me look potted. I can’t like the way I look in them. I’ve been paring down my wardrobe lately and find that I always tend to wear slim pants or straight skirts and somewhat looser tops, so that’s what I’ve kept. It didn’t make sense to me, but when I think about it in simple visual proportion, like you said, a little light bulb finally comes on. :) You’ve solved the mystery! Maybe what we’re told about flattering our figures misses the forest for the trees by failing to take the full visual line of the body into account.
I’m so sorry to hear about your struggle with bulimia and so thankful you recovered fully. I had some struggles with seeing myself as thin enough, too, when I was young. I wish I could go back and yell at myself for avoiding social events or wearing a swimsuit, etc., because I looked what I would consider unattainably perfect now. It can be a tough space to move in, evaluating ourselves proportionally, during that time and for many years after the wounds have healed.
I loved living in London, though (I was only 19), and the few strangers there who spoke to me were very kind. I realize that’s chance, but to me it was a different and gentler world versus anything I’d experienced in the US. I still remember a homeless man sitting with his dog who told me, with a kind smile and no agenda whatsoever, that it always brightened his day to see me walk past because I had such lovely eyes. At the time I didn’t interact with anyone at all on the street; and now, as a wiser human, I wish I could go back and sit with him for a minute and cheer him up. I wonder if he was a veteran? It still weighs on my mind after over 20 years. People don’t always treat us well and it can make us too afraid of our own kindness.
Thank you for such a thoughtful and thought-provoking post, Lisa. I hope your weekend is beautiful and full of so much love.
“People don’t always treat us well and it can make us too afraid of our own kindness“
Such truth briefly spoken! Yet, in our angry world, someone has to go first. I’m going to try to remember that!
Kristin, thank you for emphasizing Jess’s statement. Someone does have to go first. So true.
Thank you, Jess, for your kindness and the memory of the man and his dog. I hope you enjoy your long shirts and close-fitting pants because your internal geometry is right.
This is a great post + comments. I still work and have much flexibility in what I can wear. I decided about a year ago that since I was in the final chapter of my work life, I would “go big or go home.” That meant parting with pieces I knew I’d never wear again. Some days I dress up, some days I dress down. But always with an eye to what I absolutely love. Some days boho and some days Ralph Lauren. Accessorizing is my fashion hobby. Some days comfort clothes, some days statement pieces on trend. Every day is another chance for self expression with plenty of options to accommodate my mood. I missed that part of me during the pandemic, so I may also be making up a bit for lost time. Love this age and stage.
PS I am thrilled scarves are having a moment again. They have been a lifelong wardrobe staple for me.
The mental picture from this comment, chef’s kiss. I can only imagine that you are an inspiration to others in your work. I bet your scarf collection is happy to see the light of day!
I really enjoyed this post and – as always – the comments. May I add something to the mix of what we consider when we dress to go out the door? Sometimes it’s more than the the occasion itself, it’s the people whom we may be representing once we are there. Current case in point: our grandson’s upcoming graduation from a rather conservative New England prep (boarding) school. I want to look eminently respectable, but not dowdy. I want to dress for the age I look, not the age on my birth certificate, but still be clearly a grandmother, not an aunt. (Although I do rather enjoy being taken for my daughter’s sister…) The weekend consists of four different events, which is really stretching my very limited “better daywear” wardrobe. I’ve figured out a mix ‘n’ max set of outfits stressing black, white, and cobalt blue, with neckline and jewelry switches which range from somewhat bohemian to very proper pearls – and thank God for little black jackets and L L Bean cotton shells! But my saving grace is telling myself, “I’m a supporting player here, not the star of the show – no one is looking at ME.”
Yes, this is so true. The component of other humans. We do sometimes represent our family or our culture or our colleagues, and that’s something to honor. I love the sound of your graduation wardrobe, and I imagine you will be neither scandalous or dowdy:). Have fun!
In my opinion, dressing requires knowing what makes you feel most comfortable and what works for your body type. It seems you’ve got this nailed. Having fun with color, cut and style is also enjoyable.
For me, I like to keep things simple and generally classic. Dress to impress is not a priority for me. Also, no longer being dictated or restrained by a corporate dress code is liberating.
I would not have come to this place of fun and confidence with the blog, and its community:). I hear you on being able to give up the corporate dress code! One more thought about simple and generally classic – for some finding a mode, one that can provide a door to the soul (having to be opened) rather than a window (visible from the street) makes so much sense.
I love the concept of a door, rather than a window, to the soul!
Thank you:)
I’ve never been focussed on what I wear–only trying to be appropriate–never wanting to stand out. I did notice that I began to be invisible–particularly to the male gaze-at around age 60. I’m 73 now. These days, it is very important that whatever fabric I wear is comfortable on my skin. I do admire people like you who take fashion seriously-at least in a cerebral way. I read every word.
I too like to be appropriate, but I like to step right up to the edge sometimes. And I’ve become comfortable standing out, as long as I’m not getting in the way of anyone I care about. But it has taken all kinds of thinking, and the posting of SO many outfits and getting told I always chose the wrong shoes, to have both more courage and more desire. Thank you very much for reading.
I am the worst dresser in the world. In the Mondrian, I’m the small White box just above the Yellow, oblivious to myself and others, as I go to and from.
I have superior role models here where I live in the form of the Carnegie heirs who ferry from their family HQ Cumberland Island, over to Amelia for events and shopping. There is nothing this person can infer from their clothing or countenance, aside from Ordinary [there’s a WASP phrase for that].
What I do notice is faces, expressions, posture and gait. Joy is impossible to suppress, in fact when you first showed us the pink shirt/pants [can it really have been as far back as December? yes it can!], the look on your face said it all, this is when you sold the outfit to this little White box. The Joy on your face showed how much you loved seeing yourself and the outfit together in the mirror!
I apologize for completely missing your intent that I see “someone immutably impulsive, irreverent, analytical, intellectual, and passionate.” I just saw Joy. And that’s why I kept trying to make those pants work – until they wouldn’t.
Another fabulous Saturday Morning essay! Thank you and your Commenters for a delightful diversion for this news-weary mind.
You always looked fabulous and you still do 50 years later. You have both the right genes and the right jeans!
Late to the discussion – just jumping in to say how much I love how you write on clothes, bodies, lives. Turning 60 this year and debating a shorter skirt for (checks notes) a doctors appointment – and appreciating your reminder of dressing for me, not the external. May (or may not) wear it.