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.