Tuesday, January 18, 2011

SIOL: And then there were five...

Geez, has it only been one week since this started?  I'm sad to say that I'm already tired of my six items; and while I'm still pretty content with the items I chose, I'm quickly realizing that I probably should not have chosen items that can't be worn independently (plaid button-up needs white tank top, white tank top needs cardigan).  In addition, it seems that the mysterious sock monster in the laundry room has developed a taste for finer white cottons, and my trusty white tank has gone AWOL.

On a positive note, this experiment has opened my eyes to a number of things.

General mistreatment of clothing.  I, like so many women of my generation, have often seen aprons as a cute accessory to be worn when entertaining guests and be purchased at ridiculous prices from the Anthropologie clearance rack.  Once I started SIOL, I knew that I would need my clothes to last between washes, which meant taking better care of the clothes on my back.  I hope that I'll be able to maintain better treatment of my clothing, rather than keeping the "once it's stained, I'll toss it" mentality.

I am NOT what I wear.  This one seems obvious to those of us who aren't fashionistas, or "in" in the Heidi Klum sense of the word.  Wearing plaid makes me a lumberjack as much as wearing purple makes me the Artist Formerly Known as Prince.  So unless I'm wearing a pointed white hood or a swatstika arm-band, I'm probably not at risk of being judged by others as being a horrible human being with awful taste.  I know the notion sounds absolutely reasonable now, but I also know I'm guilty of pitying the "before" version of every guest on What Not to Wear.  "What a ghastly life they must have!  How poorly they must think of themselves to dress like that everyday!" are often the thoughts that fly through my head.  Sure, taste is important.  And an excellent sense of style is certainly an attribute that I'd like to develop over time.  Six items of clothing leaves little space to depend my entire identity on... which is a good thing.

No one notices.  Really.  No one.

Personal hygiene is your friend.  Wearing the same six items of clothes doesn't mean I can't look presentable.  With less time to think about clothes, I've taken better care of my general appearance.  Clothes come and go, but I'm stuck with this face and body forever.  Should I concentrate more on if my jeans make my butt look fat, or if my butt simply is fat?

Packing is a cinch.  And I still forgot to bring my contact lenses.  Blast.

I do miss the creative aspect of putting outfits together every morning.  It is a comfort to know that all of this will be over February 9th, but I'm sure I'll miss the simplicity of sticking to a daily uniform.  And I'm sure no one will notice by then, either.

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