Stress-free Wardrobe

Does anyone remember that President Obama said he has a limited number of suit colors because he didn't want to have to put any thought into what he wears everyday? He didn't want to spend any brain power deciding on colors and shirts and ties. Here's a version of that story based on his interview with Vanity Fair.
I've kind of taken that theory on this summer with my own wardrobe. Trying to reduce stress as the house went on the market and adult children lost jobs and Earl headed for knee surgery, I sought to eliminate stress about what to wear.
It started with a tshirt dress.


An ombre tshirt dress, of course, I do have a few standards. I mean, what a concept. It's a dress that is an over-sized tshirt, like the kind of tshirt I might sleep in. I saw a male professor teaching class in cargo shorts the other day and decided that a tshirt dress works fine for teaching, too.
So what could be more stress-free than a tshirt dress?
Enter the sweatshirt dress.


This dress is made of sweatshirt material and it has pockets. Perfect for fall weather, right? Okay, I'll pair it with a sweater if it gets chilly, but I think every one who reads my blog knows that I'm prone to hot flashes, so sleeveless works for me.
So it can't get any more comfortable than a sweatshirt dress, right?
Well, hold on:



This sweatshirt dress has the seams on the outside, making it truly the most casual dress I could ever wear.
Also notice the theme with these dresses is that they only fit tight across my chest and shoulders. I can gain weight, I can lose weight and these dresses will still work.
At least that's one decision I won't have to make in the coming months as we continue our march toward moving to France.

Wardrobe Issues

Today I feel like I should be on an episode of What Not To Wear -- you know, that show where friends or family nominate someone to be shanghaied and have their entire wardrobe criticized. I feel like that because I  am slightly fond of the outfit I'm wearing today; I can imagine myself standing in that 360 degree mirror explaining why my outfit would easily shift from day time college teacher to a nice dinner out with my husband. The hosts would be sniggering at me.
This morning, I'm wearing a dark purple silk shell with black velvet slacks; they're real women slacks with a zipper on the side. I have a black cotton cardigan on top of the purple shell that has one button at the top.
Then, I felt like I needed some color, so I put on a pair of red shoes.
The silk of the shell feels good against my skin and it comes down a little longer than the sweater, breaking up the solid black.
Yet, I'm certain that Clinton and Stacy on What Not to Wear would tell me that I'm off base.
This feeling about wardrobe uncertainties comes on the heels of me swearing last week that once my kids are finished with college, I fully intend to buy some new clothes. Of course, that's five years away, so maybe I better embrace the feeling of looking good, even if I wouldn't win accolades on What Not to Wear.

The Color Purple

Purple is the color I look best in. I know this because every time I wear purple, and I mean every time, someone says, "That color looks great on you."
They don't say it when I wear red or pink or coral, other colors that I also think complement my coloring.
On Sunday, I was trying on shirts in the dressing room. I don't know about you, but I don't look in the mirror of the dressing room while I'm trying on the clothes. I wait until I get dressed then take a look. I put on a heather purple shirt with a vneck and some details around the v. I turned toward the mirror and my face seemed lit up. Wow. That color looks great on me, I thought.
I tried the exact same shirt on in a heather red and it didn't do anything for me. So I bought the purple.
Maybe I notice that people say I look good in purple because they don't see me wear it that often.
Now you're thinking, "Wait, if purple looks good on you, why don't you wear it very often?" It's because my mom co-opted the color purple when I was a sophomore in high school.
It seemed a small thing to give up.
When I was a sophomore, I was just coming out of my really bratty middle school phase. I began to enjoy being with my mother again. I'm not sure why I remember this so specifically, but we were walking in the Towne Mall in Middletown, Ohio, and we were probably shopping at Paul Harris. (Does anyone else remember that store?) We also frequented The Limited. And, at one of those places, we bought a wool skirt in three colors of purple, plus a solid purple cotton sweater for me.
My mom loved that outfit, and slowly, purple began to creep into her wardrobe too.
Now, many, many years after my sophomore year of high school, my mom wears purple everyday. Most everything in her closet is purple or goes with purple. She was known as the lady who wears purple long before it became the popular color for retired women to wear.
I never take any purple clothes with me when I go to visit my mom in Florida. If I were to wear purple, her friends would definitely comment on the fact that I'm just like my mother. So I avoid purple most of the time, but sometimes it creeps into my wardrobe, and I don't mind at all when people say I look just like my mother, whether I wear purple or not.