Get a Date, Get a Dress

It’s almost May, and for many young girls that means the all important May Dance is fast approaching. As I help my 13 year old niece search for the perfect dress, I am reminded of my adolescence and the excitement I had at the prospect of transforming myself from an ugly duckling into a swan with the May Dance acting as the catalyst for this life altering moment. Of course, that excitement was quickly squashed by mother.

The May dance is every seventh grader’s introduction to the world of formals. Although not actually a formal, any seventh grader who has been dreaming of this moment would beg to differ. These poor acne prone, brace face girls spending countless hours imagining how their crush is going to ask them to this dance. I too was one of those girls, quite scrawny with acne and of course had a mouth stuffed full of metal not to mention a bazillion freckles and a washboard for a chest. No, my dream guy was definitely not going to ask me to the May dance but hopefully someone would. And according to my mother, that someone would be my ticket to getting the dress of my dreams.

I can remember coming home and telling my mom about the May dance and how it was imperative that I start looking for my dress. Her response? “Get a date, get a dress.” Seriously?  I mean what mother actually declares that edict to a scrawny little 13 year old with the self-esteem of a turtle? Well I was so determined to get a dress that I managed to manipulate someone into asking me to that dance ASAP. Since I knew my dream guy would not be asking me and I certainly did not have time to spare hoping for some B-grade guy to ask me, I went straight to C-grade status and found a sucker who would escort me to the dance. After all, it was the seventh grade and my mission was to have the best dress there! And I’m pretty sure I did.

Through the years the “Get a date, get a dress” story has been told and re-told countless times and while I should probably be in therapy over what my mother said, I have actually spent years dressing not to get date but rather to make myself feel good. Nothing makes me happier than to put on a great outfit and walk out the door. Perhaps that edict from my mother is what led me down this path of wardrobe editing and assisting clients with proper wardrobe choices. Thanks mom!

On a sidenote – my 13 year old niece should thank her lucky stars that we have stopped my mother from dispensing that edict to her.

 

The Yard Shoe

Last weekend I accompanied my sister and her family to the annual Springtime Tallahassee parade. What a beautiful day it was! There was a slight chill in the air, the sun was shining and people were out in droves lining Monroe Street waiting for the parade to start. My brother-in-law had staked out the perfect spot early that morning so we could all enjoy an unobstructed view of the marching bands, floats and cars that carried people down the parade route.

 

As I sat on the blanket with my sister chatting endlessly about the latest with her job, I glanced down and quickly noticed that something was dreadfully wrong. To my shock and horror, she was out in public with a hole in the sole of her shoe. Typically this would have gone unnoticed but we were sitting Indian style and this holy shoe was out on display for all to see.

 

Now don’t get me wrong, we all have items in our wardrobe that we have literally and physically loved to death, but this shoe was beyond that. Those shoes were great, they had served their purpose for over two years, and my sister had worn them to death. After regaining my composure, I turned to my sister and said, “I know you love those shoes, but they are now yard shoes. As in, you are never to leave your yard wearing those shoes again!”  She looked down longingly at those shoes and nodded her head silently. She got the message. If she could not bear to trash them then she certainly could not leave the confines of her yard wearing them.

 

The moral of this tale is that you have to know when to say goodbye. You have to understand that when you have physically worn something down, it is time to retire that item knowing full well that it has served its purpose, and chances are you definitely got well beyond your money’s worth for that item.  It is okay to retire that item and replace it with something new. In my sister’s case, her feet will thank her in the long run when the soles of her feet are no longer coming in contact with the actual ground.

Welcome to the Frustrated to Fabulous Blog

Welcome my little clothing obsessed/indifferent/challenged friends! I'm writing this blog to coincide with the launch of my new business called Orderly Fashion. Orderly Fashion is all about finding the perfect balance between your wardrobe and you! My goal is to help simplify your life by editing your wardrobe down to items that you will really wear and that flatter your figure.
 
After growing up under the influence of a mother and sister who were indifferent to the latest fashion trends, I somehow managed to make my way into the retail industry and learn a thing or two about fashion. Of course, now these two wonderful women have to live the remainder of their lives with me continuously commenting about their ensembles and editing their wardrobes constantly. Lucky them! Please enjoy as I share a decade worth of tales from my retail days at Nordstrom and corporate life at JC Penney and also as I embark on this new venture editing one wardrobe at a time.