June 30, 2015

A New York woman has gained media attention by wearing the same outfit to work every day for the past three years. Her restricted clothing collection serves as her uniform. She says her fashion choice has been liberating. My friend Kelly, a fashion stylist who has known me since high school, will tell you I’ve been doing this for decades, but unintentionally. And, I would add, often badly.
Clothes have never been my thing. I spend money on other items such as books and more books. But you can’t wear a hardback novel to work or lunch with friends. Yet when I stand in front of my home library, a warm feeling comes over me as I survey my rich literary choices. I think, “Yes! What can I read right now?” When I stand in front of my closet each morning, I think “Bleccch! What different shirt goes with the same pair of slacks I’ve owned since the Clinton administration?”
Through the years, Kelly has done her best to remedy my fashion negligence. She picked the khaki skirt, bright orange top and chic bronze flats that I wore on my first date with Mike, who would later become my husband. Success! She chose a contemporary, but age-appropriate, ensemble for my 50th birthday party. And my sharp neutral interview suit has served me well through the years — another Kelly selection.
But I’ve faltered, too.
When Kelly officially launched her styling business, I served as her guinea pig and hosted a closet party. Friends came over and sat in my bedroom as Kelly pulled out clothes from my meager closet. I would’ve sworn I had nothing new to wear, but Kelly showed me otherwise, creating new outfits out of old.
She told our party guests that I subscribe to the Garanimals Clothing Theory. I think my clothes are “married” and, thus, wear the same blouse with the same skirt. Forever. And Ever. Kelly suggested my clothes “date around” and mix things up a little. Take the interview skirt and put it with the blue knit top I usually wear with the white slacks because I purchased them together and act as though they would perish if separated.
And then there were my accessories.
When did Add-a-Beads go out of style?
Ah, baby steps.
Still, I appreciate the one-outfit woman’s choice to simplify her life. I get it.
Kelly has shown me what a little color and creativity can do. I also realize how sentiment plays into the choices I make. My first-date-with-Mike outfit stayed in my closet for many years, well past my ability to fit into it. So did the Add-A-Beads my parents bought their teenage daughter, bead by bead, for birthdays and holidays. Ditto for the interview suit I got on sale when money was tight and landing the job an absolute necessity.
These items carry meaning. So, too, does the friend who helped me choose most of them. I often say that Kelly has been dressing me for decades. My best combos are the ones she puts together. Consequently, some of the best times of my life have been with her. We’ve been through a lot since we met my first day of high school, starting with, well, surviving high school. Then college. Dating. Break-ups. Marriage. Children. Careers. Illness. Loss. Joy.
I hope we will share many more years together. Today, when I stand in front of my closet, I see a lifetime of love hanging on the rod. Our friendship is one combo I’ll never tire of.
And, Kelly, for the record, my blue knit top has taken a break from its relationship with my white pants. It has been dating and loving it.