The Solution

So here’s how it happened: one night, with the usual activity around us, we talked about Denise’s new clothes. She tried them on. I tried them on. We wondered about the skirts, and the boots. Too short? Too high? What can we wear at this age that walks that fine line between the Junior’s department and Coldwater Creek, that makes us look our age without, you know, looking our age. Does our age mean we resign ourselves to fading into the background, in a million different ways?

It was one in a string of conversations that had stretched across visits, between kids, through coffees and lunches and dinners and movies. Suddenly it all seemed wrapped up in the clothes we were wearing – our ages, our marriages, our careers, our decisions, our feelings, our selves. So we decided to try an experiment: pay more attention to what we’re wearing. Attempt to bust out of our kid-induced style stupor and get into more interesting duds. Document where we started, and where we’re headed. Be brave in the face of doubt about how we look, and how we believe our bodies look. Find out what we can wear, and what we can’t. Ask our friends what they think, and believe them. See who’s asking the same questions we are. Think about who inspires us. Take pictures. Write.

And that’s what this is. It’s not that it hasn’t mattered how we look, but…well, you can see from the pictures. It’s just that it fell low down on the priority list, and we started picking up the first thing on the floor in the morning, which was usually the last thing we wore the day before. So from now on, we’re making an effort. We’re going shopping (but not spending much money). We’re helping each other with the doubt, and we’re asking you what you think. We’re learning about fashion, and style, and quantity versus quality, and what fits in our life (because teetering heels do not). We’re hoping we can stop fading out and start stepping up.