IN DEFENSE OF BEING FASHIONABLE

            I confess. I love fashion, which is why I started this blog. I particularly love accessories, partially because they’re less expensive and they can do so much to make a dull outfit positively arresting.

            When I receive a mail order catalog, I can’t wait to turn the pages and add post-its to all the new season must-haves. My heart flutters when I go to my mailbox to discover a glossy magazine. I tear out pages of all the beautiful combinations and all the possible knock-off of the latest designer shoes and handbags.  Who knew how beautiful turquoise and lavender looked together, or how arresting pumpkin orange is matched with Kelly green?

            This passion for fashion, of course, leads to multiple purchases, although I always try to wait for sales. And, if you’re patient, catalogs on line frequently have promotion codes when you can save as much as forty percent.

            Perhaps I spend too much money on handbags and shoes and pin-on corsages and scarves -

            But the only thing that gets me up at six in the morning is the thought of what pretty outfit I’m going to wear for the day. And the only thing that gets me to sleep at night is counting my dresses and trying to figure out the best shoes and coordinating handbags and jewelry.

            Does this make me a shallow, vain, self-absorbed airhead, who shouldn’t be taken seriously?

            I’m an elementary school teacher and I happen to think I do a fairly good job. But I also know that my peers sometimes question my ability solely on the basis of my wardrobe choices.

This was driven home to me when a cafeteria worker thought she was doing me a favor by informing me that she overheard two of my colleagues gossiping. “Who does she think she is, wearing all those fancy clothes? Where does she think she’s going?”

            To work.

            So in defense of looking fashionable -

            Besides the fact that it makes me happy (which I am the first to admit points to self-absorption), looking pretty also has the potential of making other people around me happy as well. My students tell me that they can’t wait to see what I’m wearing in the morning. Complete strangers have stopped me in the street to tell me how much my bright yellow wool coat reminds them that spring is coming.

            Others marvel at my assorted wardrobe and would like to know where I keep my 53 coats (in a closet with a rack that has already collapsed once, sending one hundred and seventy-nine pairs of shoes raining down on me like bullets).

            I always feel when someone dresses pretty, it’s a sign that they want to be there, that they think you’re important enough to have fussed over. Instead of someone who just rolls out of bed and puts on black pants and a matching black turtleneck.

            If everyone at a cocktail party is wearing black, and I appear in a scarlet red dress, I’m bound to be noticed.  Once I have your attention, you’re more likely to listen to me and believe me, I have a lot to say.

            I remember going to the Metropolitan Museum of Art to see the Jackie Kennedy  clothing exhibit. My friends were oohing and ahhing, saying over and over again how lucky she was to have worn such beautiful outfits.  I couldn’t help but think how lucky she was to have places to wear such beautiful outfits. For what good are gorgeous clothes if no one sees them?

            Which is why I plan to continue to work as long as I can strut around in high heels.

            Of course, I don’t look fashionable every day. And sometimes I just want to put on black pants with a matching turtleneck and sometimes I envy people who wear uniforms.

            But I love looking fashionable and I’d like to think that people enjoy my clothing almost as much as I do. I know that when I see someone dressing pretty, it raises my spirits, makes me feel young and gives me hope. It makes the world a pleasant, bright place.

            And to me, that spells smart.