Fabulous Things Used to Make Me Happy

Once upon a time, I had a to-die-for wardrobe. I was working and single and took trips to Atlanta, LA and NYC to shop. I wore Marc Jacobs dresses, I owned almost the entire Nanette Lepore feminine, fluttery blouse collection of 2005, 2006 and 2007, and I bought shoes. Shoes that start with "Cha" and end with "nel." Shoes that rhyme with Banolo Slahnik. Oh how I loved fashion. Most of these items were too fancy for my regular life, but I managed to wear all of my fabulous things to weddings, church, dates and wherever else I could justify wearing purple velvet Prada heels with a hot pink silk bow. Duh, to brunch. Or the Christmas parade. Very practical shoes to wear in the snow. 

Nowadays, all of my pretty things are stored at the top of my closet. Not only are they terribly impractical, most of the clothes are out of style or look ridiculous with my constant 18 pound accessory holding onto me like a spider monkey. And my huge nursing boobs. But every now and then, when I am feeling totally depressed and hopeless about my lack of style and dowdy appearance, I will pull out something fabulous and wear it. Like to Beatrice's baby dedication at church a few weekends ago.

I planned our outfits weeks in advance. Beatrice was going to wear her white hand-smocked collared dress and I was going to wear a white pin tuck dress that I have had for a while. Until I tried it on. It fit fine, however the dress was at least 10 years old. In my mind it was timeless and a classic, but when I noticed the 10 year old sweat stains in the underarm region I realized that it was just old. Dirty and old. Just like me. So I started pulling dresses out of my closet with a vengeance, only to discover that I have very few dressy dresses. I shop for comfort these days. And for cheap. The larger the pile on my bed grew with unsuitable selections, the more JD started to panic. He knows that when things don't fit, I lose my marbles and say irrational things like how he should've married someone with better clothes or how I'm never leaving the house again or that I am stupid and ugly. His head started spinning and he was telling me how everything looked great on me, but to just pick something because we were going to be late. Well this made me even more manic. Not only was I running out of time, but he was patronizing me too by telling me that I looked fine when obviously I didn't. 

So I did what any level-headed woman going to church for a baby dedication would do. I wore $600 shoes with a $50 dress.

It wasn't what I planned for the occasion, but those delicate, slender heels made me step with a confidence that only comes from wearing Italian leather. Of course, by the end of the night my confident gait became slow and awkward because expensive shoes are not comfortable. It's kind of a rule. And people were noticing my shoes for the wrong reason....they were trying to figure out why I was high stepping like a Tennessee Walking horse on stilts. But that doesn't matter. My pretty things and fabulous shoes have never been about getting attention. I simply love beautiful things. And when I get the rare opportunity to wear them now in my new life, I jump on it. It's more like a hobble actually. 


I don't care much about nice things these days. I would rather buy Beatrice something fabulous than myself. But it is comforting knowing that I have a whole stash of ridiculously expensive items in the top of my closet for the times when nothing fits quite right or I realize that my "classic" clothes are just old. It's nice having a little bit of fabulousness at my fingertips. And my toes.