project outfit

I've never been one to put too much effort into what I wear. My clothes are always clean and I iron stuff, but I’ve never been one to receive comments – neither to praise nor to criticise – on my outfits. This is because, I have been told, I don’t actually wear outfits. I wear jeans and I wear a shirt. I put on a dress and I walk out the door.

Apparently, three items of clothing or less (not including underwear, but including shoes and accessories) does not constitute an outfit. Three items of clothing, even if the shirt is a decadent shade, even if the dress is flattering and features a particularly pretty print, means you are merely dressing to avoid crossing the street naked and getting frostbitten or roasted where you don’t really want to get frostbitten or roasted. And given that I have friends who dress impeccably and everyday look coordinated and stylish and adorable (and without effort it seems), the fact that I fail to do all of these things is somewhat a point of contention for me.

You see, I do care how I look. I understand appearance doesn’t wholly constitute my worth as one of the Earth’s precious inhabitants, but it does go a little way in making me feel like I am able to participate in the things I want to participate in. If I can make my hair curly rather than frizzy, if I can make my eyes look more awake and betray the utter exhaustion I am feeling, then I can, for instance, more confidently and not so self-consciously shake someone’s hand and enter into conversation about the weather.

And yet paradoxically, if I attempt to wear an outfit, say I pop a necklace over my head, I feel overly self-conscious. I am not inhibited from going out into the world and uttering a few sentences about the endless rain, but I do not feel comfortable and spend my day feeling instead that everyone is looking at me either because I look ridiculous or because they can see that I am a fraud. I recall one occasion when I wore earrings to work and was acutely aware that my boss when he was speaking to me was looking not at my eyes but at the tinkle-tinkle of the little glass balls. That same afternoon my then-boyfriend made some comment along the lines of the earrings being “weird”. Of course I got upset and of course he rectified the situation by saying that he liked me being “plain”.

Last week, however, I wore a scarf on my head. Now, I’ve worn this scarf many times before, mostly around my neck, and I’ve received a few compliments on it because the colours are deep and the pattern bold, but last week I received a compliment not on the scarf as its own individual entity, as something I was just fortunate to be in possession of, but on my outfit. And the compliment came from one of my annoyingly, always adorably dressed friends whose opinion on what is and what isn’t an outfit I highly trust. I then spent the day feeling like I had achieved something, not that I had set out to, and I spent the day feeling good about myself because I love my scarf and was more than pleased that it was working for me and that my exterior was matching my interior. If that makes sense.

So. This prompted an epiphany of sorts: I can do outfits. I may not be able to do big earrings and necklaces, but I can, for instance, do scarves. And maybe, just maybe, there are a few other bits and pieces that I can do. Hence, I introduce this coming week as Project Outfit.

I have three days left at work and each day I am going to attempt to wear an outfit that is a) actually an outfit, according to the more-than-three-items rule (although I suspect there’s more to an outfit than this – something intrinsic, something about just looking ‘complete’ or ‘finished’ or ‘polished’), and b) not in discord with who I am and how I feel. Emma, my stylish friend, will take on the role of Outfit Ombudsman and will declare my outfit attempt either a success or a failure, as well as provide critical feedback. Naturally, all of this will be recorded here – with as much flair and insight as ever – so stay tuned. I might even publish photographs.