A Style Council? Please?

I went shopping a few weeks ago for a suit jacket. I had a thing that required it. I thought perhaps I just needed a new top that I could wear with an existing ensemble that had been hanging in my closet since the last time I wore it, which was September of 2004.

What?

So I took said ensemble shopping with me. We walked the mall together. We looked at a myriad of tops and accessories together in attempt to make the old new again. We bought a bright red top and considered some animal print shoes. We went home and showed The Candyman.

Let’s just say that from there, everything went downhill…and fast.

My old outfit fit, therefore I thought it was suitable. Workable. Doable. I thought a spicy new top and some new shoes and hip accessories might bring it back to life.1 I had spent ALL DAY  at the mall with this theory and  Tim Gunn’s “make it work” pulsing over and over in my head. I spent more time than I wanted to trying on crap, checking the sale racks and trying on more crap. In hindsight, the red top was a cry for help. It was an act of desperation.

When I modeled for The Candyman and told him my idea about adding the shoes and the jewelry, he stared. “It’s not you. You just don’t look like you.”

This started a HUGE fight that lasted the rest of the night. The fight broke off into different semi-related segments that all pretty much lead back to the fact that I was super-stressed and taking it out on him.

I went out the next day and returned the red top, went to yet ANOTHER mall and stomped around in a general state of hate and discontent, attempting to find me.

It took me almost 6 hours, but I found a top and jacket I could wear with a totally different skirt. The top was more than I would have ever paid for a plain, black knit top, but it fit (SHOCKER!) and I suppose it balanced out the low cost of the jacket I got. I didn’t show The Candyman. I didn’t want a repeat performance of the last bedroom-cum-runway show so kept my fashion choices to myself.

I did ended up looking like myself and when I came home in the new outfit, he complimented me and said how nice I looked. When I asked, he agreed that I looked like me.

Thank God.

But it’s been nagging at me ever since. What is it that makes me look like me? Since I’ve been semi-self-unemployed-working-from-home for the last year, my necessity for clothes and my budget for them has pathetically waned. I’ve purchased a few things, but always on sale and mostly because of a drastic need for them.

I was looking through my closet this weekend and realized that desperation purchases do not a selection make. Lots of pieces I bought in my mid-thirties. I am no longer in my mid-thirties and the continuation of my old fun and funky, sometimes hippie-chick style seems…..unnatural.  Then again, I’m not even close to ready to shopping at Chico’s where Boxy-R-Us is the costume de rigueur. I don’t want to cut my hair into some coiffed shoulder-length, overly-processed and highlighted bob. I don’t want to look like a MILF or a Cougar, nor do I want to let myself go the frumpy hippy or soccer mom route either.

Skirts too short. Hair too blonde. Boobs to over-processed. Even if you took all that nonsense away – simply too trendy.

And please, for the love of God, someone shoot me if I ever go the way of “The Glam Gals” who promote (and I use that word lightly) fashion for women over 40.

Not that they look bad or inappropriate or anything like that. They just look like they are about to sell me some Mary Kay product and that scares me. These are women I want to run from, even though they might actually be really nice ladies.

I think I still feel the need to channel that Sarah Jessica Parker/Carrie Bradshaw vibe that I’ve identified with before Sex and the City even existed. I still feel that need to be fun and funky, but without baring too much skin, being disgustingly trendy and shall I say it….yes, I will: age appropriate.

  

The question that nags at me constantly is: how do I accomplish that on a shoe-string budget and a waning sense of self-confidence?

Anyone with answers? Yeah, those would be much appreciated.

1 The fact that I just referred to a top as "spicy" might be the bigger issue here.

Comments

[flo]

But you ARE the style council.

[Becca]

When you get a good answer, please let me know. I finally have an idea of my 30-something fashion and what feels like "me," but the shoestring budget and fluctuating self-confidence definitely put a damper on developing the style.

[veronica]

Well ... post-30 we have to start buying better quality stuff. When we try to pinch pennies, the cheaper stuff just doesn't look right. I think it's better to buy one quality pullover and one quality cardigan that you wear all of the time instead of a few cheaper things. Accessories become more important. At least that's what I'm trying to do now. I always want MORE and NEW, but the few things I do have are reliably flattering. But I also struggle with trying to still be chic and cool and balancing that with these classic pieces. It's confusing. I hate it. We all need more money.

[Louise]

Amen, Sisters. AMEN!