I have been guilty of some pretty ridiculous fashion choices. Blame the decade. Blame the trends. Blame myself. I won’t deny it. At times, however, I did deny how just plain wrong some fashion choices were and needed to have someone repeatedly tell me it was not going to work. Then we would laugh like mad when, the big shockeroonie here, it didn’t work.
For years The BFF was my honest person. While she was never a fashionista she knew what was definitely not going to work on me. She saw me when I was skewed by whatever sparkly, poofy, covered in nailheads, studs or whatever had me in that “ooooh look! SHINY!!!!” mode when reality didn’t really kick in. I had my very one reality check that would give me a whallop when needed. (I am talking a verbal one though the gal does have a pretty mean left hook!)
Now I have more than one person to be called my honest person. I lucked out that I married a man who has good taste in clothes and has picked out outfits and/or dresses for more than one occasion over the years. 8.5 times out of ten whatever he finds will work even with me being a bit hesitiant. (Some, like the white strapless sundress last summer, might work but I am still hesitant to wear. I blame woofing #1 and woofing #2 as well. They have paw magnets with white clothing.)
This worked for awhile until I put on a bit of weight. Realistically it wasn’t that much but enough for clothing to not fit the same way or not fit properly. That is when the comments started reminding me that I had put on weight. I shrugged it off for awhile but eventually got fed up with them. I was still in a healthy range but rather than argue I bought a larger size and hid. Maybe it wasn’t seen as hiding to others but to me it was. After awhile, I couldn’t afford new clothes so I got stuck in a rut. It wasn’t necessarily a bad rut but it was starting to get to be a blah one.
Recently I got sick of hiding and I can “blame” my lovely Darth Husband. He was my reality check, my honest person. We were out shopping for house related items and ended up as well at one of the “outdoors” stores. This one happens to have cute clothes and I end up playing the oooh pretty game especially since they are a bit out of my price range. It is still fun though and even more so when there are sales. I ended up trying the sales tops that I thought would work and I looked like a blob. They just hung there and it didn’t do anything. No deal.
Then Darth Husband brings me a shirt (also on sale) which I try on and think works. My reaction didn’t match his and he came back with a version one size smaller. Over years of shopping I’ve learned that the difference between two sizes at times can be extremely minor while other times they can be quite big. I try it on and it works. I can tell by his expression that it looks much better.
The thing is, if I was alone I would have bought the bigger size. He didn’t push me to buy one size or another but gave an honest opinion on how each fit, where it worked, where it didn’t and how the one I actually got made me look really good. I want to feel good with my clothes and he knows that is important to me.
Basically, that shopping trip got me out of the funhouse mirror mode that messed up my thinking that I had to hide. It’s like one window I pass by quite often heading home from work. Every time I looked into this window I hated the way I looked. Adding to the fact that I was exhausted, sick, or just cranky hungry didn’t really help me either. It totally skewed my perception.
Perception is the key word here because one step over, one window over, the view changed. Something in the glass makes the image bowed almost like a minor every of a funhouse mirror. That one step over was my reality check. Sometimes all it takes it one step or one shirt to get things moving in the right direction.
Do you have a “honest person” who will tell it like it is with clothes? Have you found yourself stuck in a funhouse mirror mode before?