Confessions of a Match-a-holic

Sometimes, in this blog, it is necessary to reveal a little of my “crazy.” Today is one of those days. No nuggets of truth or encouragement here today, just my neuroses. So read at your own risk:

I am “girly.” I like shopping. I like clothes, jewelry, shoes… I wouldn’t say I’m really trendy – I have neither the budget nor inclination to stay up-to-date on the very  latest fashion trends – but I do try to look nice.  I have a problem, though:

I have to match.

If you are reading this and you’re around my age, you understand. We were trained to match everything – jewelry, lipstick, shirt, shocks, and shoes. If you’re 35+, you know we matched our eyeshadow and mascara, too (remember “Electric Blue” mascara? That would totally match the top I am wearing right now).

As a huge fan of “What Not to Wear,” though, I know that not only is white okay after Labor Day (though it is still very hard for me to accept that), but also that clothes do not have to match. They just have to “go.” Clinton and Stacy even say you can mix patterns (I can’t do that, either). They put yellow shoes with grey pants and a fuschia shirt. Which, in my day would only work if worn with a necklace that tied it all together. But today, that isn’t necessary. It goes.

I am writing about this today because I am wearing a blue top, black jeans, and grey shoes. It “goes,” I know. But I have been uncomfortable all day. I feel like I should have black and blue shoes on to tie the top and pants together, or a chunky black, grey, and blue necklace (with matching earrings). It just feels wrong to not match at all.

We’re going to dinner with people I have never met tonight, and I am seriously considering changing into khaki Capri’s because I just bought some khaki-colored espadrilles. But the black jeans are more slimming than the khaki Capri’s. And the espadrilles are open-toed, so I would need to paint my toenails, and I don’t feel like doing that. Of course, I could paint them the same blue as my top…!

I know 80s fashion is coming back – I see my daughters’ closets getting more and more neon every month. But teen fashion and 35+ fashion is not the same. I cannot bring myself to dress like my daughters. But neither can I bring myself to wear mom jeans and turtlenecks.

It’s quite a conundrum. Shallow, certainly. Vain, you bet. But these are the kinds of thoughts that invade my mind. And now they have invaded yours.

You’re welcome.

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