on that note

In the past few days, I have been home alone (Brig is already in Cali, I'll be meeting him there tomorrow)- and what have I done? Finished reading The Host, by Stephanie Meyer.  Yawn.  Scoured the Internet for more tutorial blogs, fashion inspiration, and the like.  Nothing notable.  Then, I wrote a poem.  Jackpot.  And...She's back, ladies and gentlemen!  In the midst of my creative moment, it occurred to me exactly what had changed over the years that resulted in my noted fashion decline.  The root.  Actually, it would be more appropriate to call it an Emily decline, because that's really what happened. 

My early 20's were not exactly a gentle, charming glide into adulthood, to say the least.  For a girl who comes from an intact home with loving parents, who loves the gospel very much, and who has attempted to live my entire life on the straight and narrow path, this was quite a shock to my system.  The dreams and ideas I had upon starting this decade of life progressively and, with increasing intensity year after year, were thoroughly beaten out of me.  To be fair, though, my dreams were heavily people reliant, so they were basically destined to fail, although how was I supposed to know that at the time?  When people who stopped going to church never came back, when people I stopped dating never looked back, when people I gave everything to in their time of need never reached back, and lastly, when I never got to go back to Hawaii and finish my missionary service, something inside of me changed, and I wouldn't say it was an improvement.  There was a distinct moment in time when I felt as though I may as well have been buried under the rubble of 9/11. At that point, I let go and I stopped trying.  I did things, of course, I made sure my life made sense and kept up the status quo, but I left all the trying to others.  Since then, the real me has only been partially present (the rest buried deep in a very hard shell).

Clearly, being in hiding is not working for me anymore.  I mean, when you experience emotional trauma, it's like any other trauma - you just need to sit a few out; but, when you stop trying for things, you go numb.  When you stop exercising, you go limp and flabby.  That's not how I like to feel. 

And, you ask, how does all of this relate to my style/fashion?  Easy.  Style isn't as much about what you wear, it is about your intention for wearing it.  Clothes are clothes, but if you don't have purpose and intention, you, my friend, have no style.  Rather, I should say, I have no style, because I am talking about myself not living with intention. 

But that's all about to change, permanently, thanks to this poem I wrote last night, which allowed me to realize all of this.

*enjoy*

Dear mr. pride

Hello something long gone,

My, looks like you’re barely hanging on

It’s hard to believe you’re still alive…

So long ago I felt you thrive.

Though, Mr. Pride, you seem to have lost your lustrous power –

That temporary thrill of being right

Has Suddenly dropped its foil for cower,

Revealing the Absence of light

deeper within.

Anything to win.

Ponder. Please, this will help you understand

What threatened you was neither devised nor planned.

Comprehend the truth you refuse to embrace,

It is still the truth you are afraid to face.

Or, pull me like lies against a lever,

Twist me into something clever-

And have your silent say

In all the corners of yesterday.

But carve your ripples of regret

IN Someone Else who will carry your silhouette

Because

I will never again let you to stay,

And you will not ever have any today.

true confessions of my fashion decline

THEN...

I'm twenty years old and I love shopping, fashion, and good style.  The world feels like it is at my disposal, the future is exciting, and I can do anything I want.  I probably go shopping about once a week, just to check the racks for any great deals.  What I don't have on my side of the closet, I can just borrow from Bayba's closet, or Pam's...and we always find something cute.  If I happen to overspend a little, that's not a big deal, because my parents help me out since I'm in college.  I love that feeling of excitement and trying on 20 outfits on Sunday morning just to get the right one.  I love that feeling of looking classy and fashionable, but not trendy.  I love hanging out with my friends, and having such a good time together, and of course, getting asked out on dates.  All is good and right with the world. Except, I wonder who I will marry...and when...?

NOW...

Still in my twenties...and I'm so concerned about my budget and getting to work on time that shopping, fashion, and good style seem to elude me in every way.  The world feels more defined, the future is more or less planned out, and I am bound to hard and fast goals that make sense instead of intuitive whims that don't make sense (the latter what I was known for in my younger days).  I go shopping about once a week for food or household goods, and I can never seem to enjoy a "guilt-free" trip to TJ Maxx, or the Mall, because as they say, "a good deal isn't a good deal if you don't really need it."  And really, I don't need more clothes.  What I don't have in my side of the closet, I just dream of making sometime, or I just without, because (a) my husband and I can't share clothes and (b) he is amazing, but looking put-together is just not quite his strongest feature (which doesn't help me much).  Not to mention, of course, that in high school when I actually was flat-chested it was not as stylish as it seems to be now.  My closet is filled with old (somewhat frumpy) mission clothes, begging to be restyled, but finding the time and motivation to do this after I come home from work, is an obstacle I haven't yet figured out how to overcome.  My church outfits are more determined by what is easy to put together and comfortable (or in the winter, what is warm) than how stylish I look.  I have a closet full of heels I never wear (I mean never).  And my hair...oh boy...one word...apathy.  No body, doesn't hold a curl, looks frizzy when blow dried, and I can't figure out how to do all of those cool braids and messy buns - so hair band or pony tail it is.  Hanging out with friends is never spontaneous, because I have to work them into my schedule, or I have to work around theirs.  I am happily married to the perfect, and I mean, beyond perfect man for me - but the fun-loving girl who cared about style?  Sigh.

Problem Solving:

I realize that the above statement is a little dramatic, but for the most part, it's accurate.  It's really been years since I felt, or actually have been "stylish." I'm pretty sure my mission did me in.  Clearly, there has been a slump. I need to set some hard and fast style goals.  I mean, there have to be standards. 

Fashion wise, here are the main challenges.  Everyone has their "things" but for me, finding myself the right looks are somewhat difficult at the moment because my body type (bust) makes current styles look horrible on me, and quite frankly, I'm not too fond of the blimpy, loose fitting, 90's-esque winged shirts/dresses anyway. I love ruffles, but even those can be my worst enemy if in the wrong place.  I love the belt-around-cardigan-over-cute-shirt with skinny jeans or a pencil skirt look, but I've tried it, and it rarely gets past my bedroom mirror check (at least with the belt, which just seems to emphasize the bust).  Realistically, the curves are probably not going anywhere soon, so I have to figure this one out.

Refashioning?

I also realize that just because all of our money has to go to necessities and savings, I'm not left without options.  Really, I love this option of refashioning.  Since the clothing budget is small, shopping at my favorite places style icons (gap, banana, anthro) are simply not an option, but

here is a blog I found today that is actually quite inspiring:

http://cottonandcurls.blogspot.com/p/diy-wardrobe-tutorials-on-refashions.html

Here are some things that I want to try and make sometime: