dressing up is my love

When I was heading out to San Francisco for a wedding week full of wedding events and wedding excitement and social engagements and being out and about on the town, I was excited, because yay! Weddings! Yay, people I love! Yay, happiness! But a big part of the yay was, I have to admit, yay going out! Because yay, I get to dress up!

Working at home is not much of an occasion for dressing up. It is not really even an occasion for pants, for the most part. There’s not much of a reason for makeup, when you’re going from the couch to the fridge to the couch to the bathroom, and maybe to the coffee shop occasionally. The coffee shop requires pants, and sometimes a glance in the mirror before you head out the door because maybe your hair looks hey-where-are-my-meds stupid. but mostly it does not matter. Your cat does not care if your outfits coordinate, and the Internet doesn’t really notice if you smell funny. Unless we’re talking metaphorically.

The days where I’d have to go down to Salt Lake–an appointment, or lunch with E, or a wild hare up my butt to be a grownup and sit in a chair and work in an upright position–were occasions of great celebration, in which I would choose my clothes very carefully and might even wear earrings. And occasionally, if I were feeling especially fancy about the library or chicken salad sandwiches, I would apply lipstick.

And I looked forward to it every time. I have a closet full of clothes–thanks to the thrift stores within blocks of my house–that I like
playing with, combining, making into interesting outfits that make me
feel as close to myself as possible. As near to synthesizing the person
I think of myself as, and the person I hope I can be with the person
that people can actually see. Short of carrying around a billboard that
spells out your very interesting personality attributes and character
qualities, your clothes are the closest you come to expressing Your
Inner Self. Though a billboard would probably be slightly more
cost-effective, and probably be a better conversation starter.

Dressing well makes me feel good. It makes me feel confident, sharp, and powerful. It makes me feel attractive and unstoppable. Like
people will look at me twice and also think twice about looking at me
for too long because I might cut them with my razor-edged sassiness.
Now that I’m in an office five days a week, I have a very good
reason–not even an excuse, but a real, live reason–to get dressed, and
slightly fancy, every day. Every day, I get to feel good,
well turned-out, and adorable. Getting up in the morning is not so
terrible, because yay! I get to dress up! It’s the little things that
get you through the week, right? Though I’d argue that making yourself
feel lovely–it’s hardly a little thing.

3 Replies to “dressing up is my love”

  1. That feeling eventually wears off for me and then I just want to sleep in and roll out of bed, shower, and go to work in a horrible combo of jeans, undone hair, and no makeup. Maybe that’s the downside to working in California for an interweb company – There’s no dress code. I think I’ve looked cute about twice this past month. The rest of the time I’ve been something of a mess. Heh.

  2. I always THINK that it doesn’t matter, that it isn’t a big deal, but then I find myself spending a weekend without leaving the house–or showering or dressing or even brushing my teeth (what? I can’t be the only one who sometimes has weekends like that) and I think it’s so great–I mean, on the one hand, it is–and that I am enjoying the ability to walk around for two solid days in the same sweatpants I slept in, but then Monday morning, loathe as I am to go back to work, I always find myself a bit surprised at how much better I feel when I look in the mirror after I’ve bathed, dressed in real clothes, put on some makeup, washed and brushed my hair, etc. Funny that. I love to lounge like a lizard but god it feels nice to feel good about how I look as I walk out the door.

  3. I work from home (I’m a journalist/writer/translator) and for a while, I stopped wearing make-up and sometimes, even wore my pjs to work… I noticed after a while that it made me feel like crap. I’d pretty much stop to go out because I’m vain and don’t think it’s possible to face the world without eyeliner, mascara and mineral foundation.
    So now, as crazy as it may sound, I wear make-up everyday. Skirts and dresses too. To work at home.

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