Grown-up Garanimals: Confessions of a Functionista

     I pretty much wear clothes because it's customary in our culture.  (Thank goodness.)  But wardrobe planning is not a talent of mine.  Through the years I've had some pretty drastic fashion highs and lows.



     Occasionally, I get lucky and stumble across a pair of shoes that make my heart sing, or maybe a cute jacket that pulls other things in my closet together and makes the world seem like a better place to be.  But, for the most part, searching for things to wear is just a nuisance.

      In my happy fantasy world of fashion I can walk into my closet and always find the perfect outfit for any occasion.  Everything goes together.  It all fits perfectly (no matter how much pie I've had to eat that month).  It shows off my best features, hides imperfections, and showcases my personality.  It does all of that with style and panache.

     Oh, yeah, and it's also cheap and requires zero effort on my part.

     Unfortunately, my fantasy world and my real world have rarely been on speaking terms.  But, I continue to hold out hope that somewhere, someday, I'll discover some quick, simple, fashion fix and my clothing troubles will be over.

     The 'Color Me Beautiful' system was supposed to be this sort of short cut to an easy wardrobe.  Back in the late 70's it seemed like everyone was getting their 'colors done'.  The promise was that, once you knew your 'season', then your fashion world would all fall into place.  You could then scan through racks of clothes, pick out the colors that suited you, and everything in your closet would magically work together.

     But there was still the matter of cut, fabric, fit, and the ever-changing fashions of the moment.  Plus, you still had to go to stores, look for stuff, and try it all on.  (Ugh.)  Knowing my season wasn't the shortcut I hoped for, but it did hint at the possibility of shopping simplicity.

     In the late 80's and early 90's I went through a 'matchy matchy'/wild colors phase.  (Along with a lot of other victims of 80's fashion.)  I was single, had a good salary, and had a coworker/roommate who just loved to shop.  We spent many a lunch hour looking for, say, hot pink shoes to match a hot pink purse to go with some hot pink earrings...  You get the idea:  think a younger, cuter, version of the shoulder-padded, always matching, Nancy Reagan.  (Okay, yeah, now try to erase that image from your brain and forget I ever mentioned it.)

     I revolted against this approach when I moved to New York.  This was partly because my salary dropped by more than half, and partly because everyone in the whole city wore black.  I swear in those days you could draw major attention to yourself on the subway if you went out on a limb and wore charcoal grey.   Even after leaving the city, I pretty much went ahead with my black-only look for the next decade.  (Think a younger, more feminine version of Johnny Cash.)

     My basic black wardrobe was probably the closest I've ever come to my fantasy wardrobe.  Everything did go together.  And, yeah, I pretty much always had something to wear.  It wasn't exactly inspiring, or uplifting, or even flattering on me.  People outside of Manhattan assumed I was in mourning, and there was always the risk of losing things in the back of my black-hole/cave-of-a-closet.

     Still, it functioned.

     I'm lucky that I wear a uniform at work.   That cuts out a lot of time, money, and hassle.  I hated having to buy 'boring office clothes'.  Then again, not having to find something to wear to work also enabled me to avoid shopping entirely.

     Next came the era of restoring our old house.  Almost all of my everyday clothes ended up with some sort of rip, stain, or general roughed-up look.  I invested zero time and money on shopping for clothes and got to a low point in my fashion life in the early 00's.  (As if a pathetic search for an adult version of Garanimals equals having a 'fashion life'.)

     Anyhow,  I was getting to the point where I would, regularly, stand in my closet and 'have nothing to wear'.  That scenario can really mess up your head.  No matter how much I told myself clothes don't really matter in the grand scheme of things, when you truly have nothing to wear...it matters.  I'd get weepy every time I needed to show up looking presentable for something.  It got to where I'd rather not go do things than have to mess with figuring out something to put on.

     When doing some desperation shopping in the midst of this period I hit fashion rock-bottom.  I went to The Gap and found my Reverse Fit jeans had been discontinued.   If I'd had the cash I would have bought a dozen pairs and worn them for life.  Luckily, I wasn't able to do that.  If I'd had a crystal ball I'd have known that soon these would be the very definition of mom jeans...light wash and all.

     Eventually, I found a passable new version of jeans and bought a bunch of t-shirts in various colors.  Utilitarian and boring, but I could be dressed and out the door in no time.

     The television show 'What Not to Wear' was a turning point for me.  The biggest thing I got from that show is a willingness to admit that clothes are a necessary evil and that having something to wear was going to take a little effort.  I could either keep railing against our shallow society, the fashion industry, and the fates, or I could suck it up and try to enjoy it a little.  I started forcing myself to regularly spend a little time and a little money on clothes.

     Things improved.  I got to where I'd rarely go shopping in sheer panic mode because I needed something to wear right now.  And I, pretty much, had something to wear to any event.

     I've been thinking about all of this in the last few weeks since 'What Not To Wear' ended it's ten year run.  It had become the thing that motivated me to try something new.  I turned to Google to look for my next source of clothing inspiration and found something called 'Dressing Your Truth'.

     It, basically, combines all the stuff I've learned to this point but also takes your basic nature and personality into account.  It does what the 'Color Me Beautiful' system, and my own 'wear only black' or 'wear only jeans and t-shirts' systems did:  it narrows the choices way down so that your head doesn't explode when you walk into a large department store.  (Or maybe that's just me.)  They give guidelines for not just color, but also cut, fabric, jewelry, hair cut, and make up.  Between this and Polyvore posts on Pinterest I think I might just be able to keep my slight momentum going.

     Narrowed-down choices is a very helpful concept to me in the big world of new-styles-every-five-seconds.

     It's not quite as narrowed as the adult Garanimals-delivered-right-to-my-door that I'm really interested in...but it's getting closer.


Do you love or hate clothes shopping?  What's you favorite find of all time?  What fashion era do you miss the most?  Please share your most mortifying story.  It'll make me feel better.  :-)