Monday, November 19, 2012

The Colors in the Closet

There was a time when my aunt used to say to me,"You have too much black in your wardrobe. What's wrong with a little color? Live a little!" It's true, that for a while my closet consisted of mainly black clothing. I blame some of that on my angsty years and some of that on truly believing the color black made me look smaller in everything. Black was flattering and black was tough. Black hid the beer gut from college, the speckles of pizza grease, even the occasional cigarette burn, and made my butt look just a tad smaller from the side. While wearing black was a great way for me to hide, that was also the problem with it. It served no other purpose.

I can't remember when I began buying clothes with color. I can remember associating bright colors with being bubbly and for me that meant being stupid. I didn't wear pink or periwinkle and I still don't really dig pastels, but this past summer I bought my first hot pink tank top...and I love it. My love for bright pink is a new found passion. It started in 2010 when, at 28 years old,  I got a manicure and pedicure with my mom for the first time in my life. I had wanted to pick a dark burgundy, because for some reason I still hang on to trends that were cool in the 90s, but the manicurist suggested something bright for summer. My mom encouraged the thought, so I reached for the most far-out color I could find, or rather the color reached out for me. For the first time in my life, I had pink toes and not just any pink, but a Pink-Out-Loud kind of pink. I fell in love with the color and how the color made me feel - FUN! Ever since, my ideas on pink have been broadening, until I finally owned an article of pink clothing.

I still wear this pink tank top with a black blazer or during my bachelorette party, I wore a grubby blue hoodie over the pink. But the thing I love about pink is that you can't hide it. Even if you throw a dark coat over it, pink will find a way to steal the show. Pink will find a way out.

Over the weekend, when hanging some of my wet clothes to dry, I caught a glimpse of a sampling of my closet and felt so happy when I realized that black was a hard color to find. My closet now has deep cobalt blues, and turquoise greens, and pink, bright whites, and even a little red. Its moments like these when I recognize the tiny transformations in my life that have rippling effects and even stronger undertows signifying change and growth. I no longer want to hide myself -  lady lumps be damned.

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