fashion fridays

When Gindi first approached me about doing this blog series, this was the picture that came to mind.

It was literally buried in an album under other boxes from my childhood, in the bottom of my youngest daughter’s closet. It is from the spring of my senior year at Lamar High School, circa 1993.

To give you the backstory, my swimming coach, Coach Peggy, nominated me for this award. Peggy knew I worked hard and got good grades. She was a very good mentor and we had a great relationship. However, it was not the same with Coach P.  She played favorites and no matter how hard I tried, I was not one. Still, the application needed the signature of the other coaches I played under, so Coach P had to sign.

When I went to her office, I knew what she would say. She looked at it and said, “Wow, I had no idea you were smart!” I think she meant it as a compliment, but I let it slide right through me. I’d stopped taking her treatment of me personally a few months prior to this picture being taken, for survival purposes really.

My high school career in a lot of ways was pretty normal – the usual angst. In other ways, though, it was a crash course in emotional endurance. Some of that had to do with how Coach P treated me and the other girls. Yet, like many, I was insecure going into high school. Like many, I focused only on what was wrong with me.

So, this picture, this moment, as I stood on the field at the Astrodome before an Oilers game, was the first moment I began to understand who I was. It was a moment where I embraced what I’d achieved. I graduated in the top 3% of my class. I was smart. I was fit. I had a 28” waist for crying out loud! I look and see a young woman who is beginning to internalize the good truth about her.

I love this outfit because I picked it out. My mom and I often butted heads on what I would wear, (part of the nature of the mother-teenage daughter relationship) but we agreed on this outfit. I did have tuck in the sweater (only something someone with sub-30” waist can do!) and wear hose, but I’m going use this as an example with my girls, highlighting my fashion philosophy: LOOK NICE. BE COMFORTABLE.

Oh sure, it’s very 1990’s! But I didn’t feel self-conscious. For once, I didn’t feel fat. I felt like me, the real me, underneath all the insecurity.

The daylight was beginning to break on who I was going to become as an adult. It’s taken another twenty-three years to come into a full realization of the revelation in that moment. I can see the glimmer of that beautiful truth in that girl’s eyes and her wry smile.

I was smiling for another reason (certainly not as holy). I smiled at what felt like sweet victory over Coach P’s assessment of me. I’ve since forgiven her, but in this moment, I felt vindicated. I remember feeling I’d proved her wrong for thinking less of me. This picture is the recognition for what I’d worked so hard for –on and off the court.

Y’all I know this award isn’t a gold medal!  But it sure did feel like it.

I look at this picture and contemplate how much the Lord has taken me through. I try to grasp the layers of lies He’s stripped off, all so I could see the purity of who I was. I feel the refreshing wind of possibility all over again.

The struggles I had back then, I faced all on my own. While my waistline at forty-one (and after three kids) is much wider, so is my knowledge and hope in God. I no longer wonder about if God cares about me, like I did back then. Now I know for sure He loves me and makes it all come out good, somehow.

This was a very good day.

I am applying for Spiritual Director training in April of 2017. Spiritual, emotional and mental inventories are good things to take. This picture helps me do that. It shows me see how far the Lord has taken me and that that the hard work of sifting through the past does pay off. Years later, what remains of this girl is a hope and a bright future, even decades later. And I know Romans 8:28 is true:

That’s why we can be so sure that every detail in our lives of love for God is worked into something good. (MSG)

I have loved hearing your fashion memory stories for this summer Fashion Fridays series.  I love reading how almost every biggest fashion memory is linked to a person.  Mine are the same way!  Today we welcome my friend Jennifer with her beautiful, transport you there, memory of her first professional fashion and her grandmother (she just couldn’t find an old picture so use your imagination!).  Welcome Jennifer today:

When reading your fashion memories, this one came hurtling back to me. I can literally smell the clothes pre- and post- dry cleaning as I think back to my first job out of college. I can see myself vividly unwrapping my first professional garb in my grandmother’s nursing home room to show her and my mom my new threads. She had recently fallen and broken her hip, and she was suffering from dementia. Unfortunately she was also experiencing the onset of Alzheimer’s which would keep her chained to that nursing home for the rest of her life.  I don’t know if I’ve ever felt that strongly about threads before or since! But I do know it’s one of those rare moments in a career woman’s life you can never duplicate. Kind of like meeting your true love! Here’s my story.

I was 22 and nearing graduation. I was looking forward to hanging up my beer-soaked waitressing uniform after four years of slinging bangers and mash at an English pub. I had big plans. I was taking one week off to get my wisdom teeth pulled, and then I was officially becoming a Professional.

The thought of my first day of work – real at-a-desk-with-a-dedicated-phone-line work – made my shoulders stand tall and my mouth smile from ear to ear. I was pumped. I had never worked in an office before! Internships were for the business majors back then (or at least I was led to believe). I happily waitressed and bartended my summers away. When senior year came around, I started asking the regulars around the bar what kind of work I should pursue. What kind of company would hire a psychology major? What is the going rate for a college graduate these days? I clearly had no clue. How innocent and exposed I felt! How shiny and new the world seemed. Turned out the restaurant owner’s wife was the founder and president of a prominent marketing communications and graphic design firm in the new building next door, and they were in need of a receptionist. Of course, I’d love to apply!

Somehow I got hired. Upon reflection, they should have never hired me. I failed every basic interview principle besides being polite and showing up on time. I feel like I wore overalls to the meeting (or might as well have). That’s how stupid I felt walking out of the building after my first interview. Ever. Hopefully I wore a skirt and at least a sweater or jacket.

So it’s the Friday afternoon before the new job, and it’s time to get serious. I’m on cloud nine and nervous as all get out. I am in the zone, and I am heading to where all the ladies shop for professional garb – Foley’s. Or so I assume since it is pretty much the only department store where I remember my mom spending her time.

I drove to the downtown Foley’s, and it felt very appropriate amongst the skyscrapers. The sales floor was dead, so I basked in my private shopping paradise. I opened my first Foley’s card, and I got a discount on my first day’s purchases. I purchased two suits, Jones of New York, both exactly the same. One in black and one in khaki. I liked the sheen of the fabric, and the fit of the jackets. The fit was a little big in one color, but I knew I could make it work. This was about a decade or so before I discovered that tailors are God’s gift to professional women.

I kept going, feeling confident as the clothes pile up. I added a skirt to match the pant suits. And a sweater set – how smart! I bought a light pink and blue pin striped Ralph Lauren shirt. It had new iron-free technology and was fitted to my frame. I purchased a traditional Ralph Lauren striped shirt as well and forever regretted it. Though it was marked extra small, it felt like it was built for a man – always too billowy around the waist and ridiculously long. After the third wear, I became concerned that Mr. Lauren actually expected 5 foot 4 inch women to wear these shirts and like them! I spent hours looking at shoes and belts and purchased something brown or black – classic but completely boring. Luckily, working with creatives in the dead of summer quickly gave way to colorful heeled sandals and slides so my toes didn’t suffer too long.

The day after my score at Foley’s, I was excited to share my new wears with my mom and grandmother. We met at my grandmother’s room in her new nursing home digs, and the fashion show began. I recall the light through the window created a golden cast across the room. It must have been the afternoon and the sun was shifting. So many things shifting. My grandmother was very happy to see me and enjoyed my company as I pranced around the room as if I was six again playing dress up in her closet. I remember an old afghan was folded on the edge of her bed, and I remember thinking how yellow and golden everything was. It was the last time I would recall seeing my grandmother lucid, and honestly I’m not sure if she truly was that day, but I remember that she was. I felt her quiet smile.

I went through each piece and described my choices in great detail. The bargains I found, the discounts I applied. The endless options I had by mixing and matching the pieces I chose. Such pride I felt driving home that afternoon. Such pride I saw in my mother’s and grandmother’s eyes. One of those once-in-a-lifetime experiences. Thank you Gindi for helping me to remember.

We’re back today with our summer Fashion Memories series.  Last week we introduced the series with Cathryn’s first date outfit, and today my friend and fashion buddy Brandy has a precious memory from years ago.  As she terms it, “my oldest happy fashion memory.”

Turn back the clock.  I am 19 years old, a freshman in college, and I just received a fantastic scholarship which would allow me to attend school in Paris at the Sorbonne for a term.

I had already been accepted to the Sorbonne, after a grueling  application process including a written French exam, and a truly terrifying phone interview in French with the “Examination Board”.  After being accepted, I then had to apply for and get the scholarship.  As my family would have had a very hard time covering the cost for me to attend otherwise, this was a huge moment for me.

The international studies scholarship recipient winners were asked to attend an awards banquet.  The banquet was for all scholarship recipients attending foreign schools under several different exchange programs.  I recall that my closest friends went to the Universities of Madrid, Heidelberg, and Estonia.

An unfortunate request for the banquet attire was to wear our school colors – ours were red, white or black at Lamar University.  I suppose I can be grateful that I wasn’t yet at University of Texas; that would have left me in a white or burnt orange cocktail dress!  I do not look good in red as a general rule because of my skin color, and add to that red dresses can go tacky on me quickly because I’m curvy.  I was unwilling to wear white- I could just see me spilling something on it before the photos!

So, I decided to buy a black dress.  This was my first “grown up” little black dress I had ever purchased.  I still remember walking from the side of the store with the juniors clothes, my typical shopping stop at 19, to cross over to shopping in the women’s section of the store.  (Oh my, the sizes come in even numbers- how interesting!)   I found the right dress!  I was so proud to have a simple classy dress that was in my poor college kid budget to wear to the event.

At the time, the popular bands were Pearl Jam, Nirvana, and Bush, and everyone in my circle wore Seattle grunge rock wear.  Wearing ironed clothing would have been a crime!  So owning a dress like this and wearing it to school was huge!  (The banquet was on campus at the top floor of the library in the University President’s event space.)

I remember my best friend and study buddy at the time was a guy, also a scholarship winner, and when he saw me at the event he said, “Wow, this is the first time I ever thought of you as a woman.”  I still recall that line!  On my side, I said, “This is the first time I’ve ever seen you clean and not in Doc Martins.”

The President of the University made a speech, and then the International Studies advisor for each student said a few nice words about us.  We sat at tables with our donors and our parents for dinner.  I was not used to making serious dinner conversation with older, well-off donor types at the time!  Then we walked onstage to accept our award, thank our donors, and give a short speech indicating why we had selected that study abroad and what drove us to study that language. My family was very excited about the honor, and I recall my mom telling me I was the first person in our family to study abroad.   My first grown up little black dress helped me have the confidence to enjoy the evening, and I can still remember that happy and proud feeling about having this opportunity  attend the Sorbonne.