We need smiles, my friends and followers commented on Instagram. I needed my smile badly myself as I was suffocated by fear of Covid-19, which possibly was already causing my weirdly scratchy throat. I didn't want to hold my breath counting to ten again and went for a happy making distraction; creative styling is my thing, outfits are my gurus. I dove into the past of my wardrobe to revamp dresses I did not wear anymore, making them “more me.” The goal was to inspire the eco-conscious action of shopping in our closets and revamping what we own instead of adding to landfills and buying more stuff. The planet needs us to be better.
Woke fashion is the new trend.
Like often I did not style with a plan rather let the outfit find me. In three years of hands-on fashion explorations I discovered that my life was not just set up like a screenplay where locations, supporting actors and even my opponents played their perfect roles, I also had an inner wardrobe stylist. I had I took scissors, cut, re-matched, had a giggle and let myself be drawn to tops and boots and bags. At the end of the video, as my next one will be about story telling outfits, I asked,
“What does this revamp tell me about myself?”
The vibe of these three outfits was very similar.
Epiphany NO 1 - “You’re telling me I have a style?”
I was proud to be a book of many characters and free of the “my style” restriction.
Style is often defined by the roles we play. How much we let them take over depends on us; how aware we are weather they align or repress our true energy, that they are a tool and not our identity and how much rebel power we own to get out of our boxes.
In confident times when my actions were guided by my passion and my surroundings agreed with my soul, fashion was my art. In repressed times when I sold my soul for whatever reason; to fit in or to survive financially, I silenced my love for personal expression and my style was blah, non-existent like me.
The desire for freedom and independence is strong in me; told that we have to dress elegantly, act well adjusted, and know better than wearing “revolting mini skirts” in midlife disrupted the unhappily adjusted woman I had become. I went on a journey to prove to myself and every woman over 50 that outmoded rules and society’s expectations were to be crushed.
I went through many feelings, judgments and stories in various styles postulating that, as a fashion explorer, I have no style. My warrioress against ageism though had a hidden agenda; in the many fashion episodes she guided me too she pushed me closer to my truth. I didn’t think, I submersed in playing dress up like a child. My intuitive outfits manifested like magic; one moment I was piling pre-loved random clothes on my arm, balancing shoes and handbags in the other and in what felt like a time warp found myself swirling and telling Instagram the story of my new creation. When I wore them looking for shooting locations, I was guided to backgrounds and areas that fit them perfectly and helped reveal their story.
Presenting my outfits on social media was not without challenges. The journey saw me stumble over my fear not to be relatable or cringe under voices from the past of to being “too much” again; emotional band aids and spiritual showers were my best friends.
My fashion adventures drew a road map through my queendom; a space made of my thoughts, visions and actions, where I tore down borders inside and outside. The amazing people who lived in it or just visited my world like tourists colored what was black and white and pointed their flashlights into the corners I had ignored. As a reward they received power tokens, gifts to show to others in their own worlds.
I arrived in act three, entering the stage of Queen, the empowered, wise, empathetic and benevolent Queen. I was surely old enough to be one. I adjusted my tiara ready to rule.
Epiphany NO 2 - “You’re not a queen,” my three girly outfits said, “you are a rebel princess.”
It was more than “not being there yet”; the fully empowered woman, successful author and wealthy owner of Portuguese Quintas and French castles. It was not just missing the promised crown jewels. I had never felt grown up or ready. I have no clue what it means to “arrive” because each time I did it turned out just to be a stop not a landing. I was and am always reaching for my full potential.
Epiphany No 3 - “Not ready” made me miss opportunities but “not done yet,” not settling in for good is my power. I am searching, finding, experimenting. I’m in flow and flux; it’s my elixir of eternal youth, wrinkles or not. A queen doesn’t giggle, isn’t frilly, funky, girly or silly. A queen doesn’t have bruised knees. I fell twice trying out the new heights of my teenie-bopper plateaus. I’m okay with still needing my box of band-aids.
My empowerment is to own the rebel and the princess and to accept serving my queen, let's call her my essence or soul.
Epiphany No 4 - I have learned to trust the bigger picture of me. I let my soul own the throne for another decade or so. Or forever, who knows? I stay her curious explorer girl and fierce rebel, her sidekicks, the messenger and the missionary doing her bidding.
Personal freedom comes from getting to know our true self and owning who we are right now.
If you’d like to play in your isolation chamber,
1. Inspect your wardrobe, what does it tell you about yourself?
Which colors and styles dominate it?
Is that really how you feel about yourself?
If you were a casting director, who would you hire for these clothes?
2. Make a pile of outmoded clothes.
Before you toss or sell them, take scissors and safety pins, needle and thread and any accessories you fancy and make them into something new, a style more you.
Make it like a sketch, avoid the need for perfection. Let it be like curious, innocent child play and your outfit creation might surprise you.
Tell us, what did you see?
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