“There’s a real power in heels and a good dress.” — Talulah Riley
Anyone who knows me understands my fashion challenges. It’s not that my friends and family think I’m dork-like and dress funny; it’s that…well…I am dork-like and have been known to dress funny.
The first problem is figuring out what looks good on me. I know that the color coral, or any form of orange or peach, makes me look like an escapee from a Yellow Fever colony. Any shade of hunter or forest green makes me look great, but I also like red shoes, and wearing a green dress with red shoes only works at cocktail parties at the North Pole. Besides those two bits of info, everything else I put on is pretty much a guess or has been decided by a jury of my peers, all on speed dial, for quick FaceTime consults.
This week, I attended an event some would call “foo foo,” but I had the best time. It was garden party/cocktail attire, and hats were a thing. Big, decorated hats, the likes of which are usually only seen at British weddings and drag shows. I made my hat, which is to say I super-glued a bunch of fake flowers onto a straw hat, tied a red, white, and blue bow on it, and called it done. I was not recognized at all for my efforts, but that’s not unusual. Despite my propensity to be a loud redhead, I’m not on any social A list. I swear, I have good manners and know how to behave, but it might be that I keep showing up in boring basics.
Do I own designer dresses? No. Do I wear the usual Lily P and Vinny Vines garb? Also no. I’m lucky if I get out the door wearing a dress, appropriate shoes, and some wrap. Even when I get it all “right,” which is a definition I still don’t fully understand, I’m confused by it all. What makes one outfit right and another one not right? If I knew that, I’d be all set, but I don’t know what is right and what is not.
This week, a billionaire got married in Italy. Thank goodness I wasn’t on that guest list (as if!) because I would have no damn idea what the best look is for getting on a water taxi in Venice, Italy. I barely know the right outfit for lunch at the Eastern Yacht Club. Oh, and not for nothing, I’ve never been to lunch at the Eastern, but I suspect if they saw me rolling up, they’d figure out some reason I shouldn’t be there because, honestly, I am likely someone who would use the wrong fork for my hot dog or show up wearing an outfit that wasn’t at all suitable.
I have the basics in clothing. White jeans, blue jeans, t-shirts, one pair of black pants, a basic little black dress, a few sweaters, and a couple of silk blouses. I start to hyperventilate if an occasion calls for anything more involved than that. I watch fashion shows on television and listen to podcasts about who was the best dressed at some Hollywood red-carpet event, so now I’m starting to understand how the First Lady, The Queen of England, and Taylor Swift all look amazing. They have people for that. I have no people for that other than my friends, who are likely pretty sick of me wigging out and saying, “Holy crap, what am I going to wear?” My friends save my bacon on a regular basis, though, because they know enough to say, “Do not leave the house wearing that; what is wrong with you?”
When I shop, I tend to hit the same racks. I check for jeans, white blouses, black flats, and a skirt if I’m feeling really brave. I never branch out into colors or styles I haven’t tried. I think we should all have our own style squads. Pick a few of your close friends with a better sense of fashion than you do, and go shopping. Buy what they suggest, ask how to pair up what you already have with what’s in the store, and don’t say no to something just because it’s different.
Of course, we are more than what we wear, but it’s still a good idea to try out a few outfits that are a departure from what you normally choose. Change it up a little, ditch the basics, and see what happens. Also, pro tip: Shoes never make your butt look big.
Brenda Kelley Kim has lived in Marblehead for 50 years and is an author, freelance writer, and mother of three. Her column appears weekly.
