Writing – Page 2 – Blue Collar Red Lipstick

Category: Writing

18
Aug
2016

The Platonic Closet

categories: Capsule Wardrobe, Favourite things, style, Trifles, Writing

The rise in popularity of capsule wardrobes and minimalism (as a lifestyle, rather than an aesthetic) has created a great deal of discussion I find fascinating, perhaps none more so than on the topic of whether these movements encourage a futile search for perfection in clothing form. It seems almost inevitable: if your closet is curated to the extreme and meant to last for years and years, it’s natural to expect that its contents should meet some pretty lofty standards — a Platonic ideal if you will. Indeed, capsule bloggers who “refresh” their selections every season are often criticized for betraying the ethos of capsuling (is it a word now?) and being nothing more than consumerism peddlers in a cunning guise. For what it’s worth, I think both of the above approaches to capsule/minimalist wardrobes (searching for “perfect” pieces versus “perfect for now” pieces) can have their advantages and drawbacks (or, worse yet, pitfalls), assuming the goal is to practice more mindful consumerism and reduce one’s environmental footprint.

Nonetheless, as far as I’m concerned, there is no such thing as a Platonic dress, or skirt, or coat. Or, rather, the ideals are too numerous to count, influenced by any number of factors, and subject to the unpredictable whims of personal taste. The perfect dress for a sunny summer afternoon when I want to feel sexy on a date with my husband is not the same as the perfect dress for a cold winter weekday morning when I want to feel powerful in a client meeting. Nor is 26-year old Adina’s perfect summer afternoon date dress the same as 28-, or 32-, or 36-year old Adina’s perfect summer afternoon date dress. Maybe some people find it possible to hone in on their ideal wardrobe pieces with greater specificity than me; more power to them.

But I didn’t start writing this post because I wanted to talk about philosophy. Honest. What got me started was an idea I had on the train home one day: what if I HAD to pick one, and only one, piece from each category of clothing in my closet as the piece most representative of my personal style — which one would it be? Given what I wrote above, I expected this to be a difficult exercise; to my surprise, I began coming up with answers almost immediately, and with little hesitation. After I ran through the whole list in my head, I decided to write it up as a post, partially because I love making such lists (and thought that making this one might be enlightening), and partially because I wanted to hear your thoughts. So, after you read about my Platonic pieces, tell me yours in the comments!

Dress

This one was the first answer to come to mind: my dark blue 3.1 Phillip Lim dress. It’s the dress to which I turn whenever I need to look “my best” and feel confident. I wouldn’t go so far as to say that it’s appropriate for all occasions in my life (it would look out of place at a backyard BBQ, where a maxi dress might be just the ticket), but it would cover a pretty wide gamut.

As I mentioned above, I thought it would be interesting to dig a little deeper and ask myself what it is, exactly, that I like about this dress, which makes more “perfect” in my eyes than others. Here’s a shortlist:

– it drapes beautifully, and skims the body without being clingy or body-conscious (I hate feeling uncomfortable and/or self-conscious)
– it accentuates my waist (when belted) and flares out without being too poofy (I like un-fussy, figure-flattering silhouettes)
– it has a high but interesting neckline — almost boatneck, without the bra strap limitations (I am cleavage-averse, by necessity, at least 80% of the time)
– it has no sleeves (I almost always wear layers and hate the “bunched up” feeling of sleeves within sleeves)
– I love the colour, and the abstract print/colour combo (it’s unexpected without being too “loud”)

Thinking about it, I realized that it’s an “Adina” version of this dress, which is basically as close to perfection as a dress can get.

Pants

Sticking with a theme, my ideal pants are basically a take on the ankle-cropped cigarette pants worn by Audrey Hepburn. Most of my pants, both dressy and casual, share this silhouette DNA. My closet favourites are the Adriano Goldschmied Stevie (in denim and corduroy) and the BR Sloan.

Some of the things I like about these pants:

– they are stretchy and comfortable (honestly, my #1 requirement for any article of clothing, but especially pants)
– they make me look taller regardless of what shoes I’m wearing (probably my #2 requirement because I have a lack-of-height complex)
– they make me look more slender (clearly, this is entirely subjective)

Blazer

My J. Crew Factory tweed blazer is one of the most worn blazers, and with good reason:

– it fits me perfectly in the shoulders and nips in at the waist (perfect tailoring is one of my wardrobe aspirations)
– the length works with dresses, skirts and pants (versatility is another aspiration)
– the material is a good weight for winter, fall, spring and, more often than not, Edmonton’s summer as well (see above)
– the blue-grey colour works with most things in my closet, and is less severe than black — indeed, it’s second in versatility only to my greige Theory blazer, which doesn’t have as flattering of a cut (more versatility!)
– the buttons, though not leather, have a convincingly similar look (I love an understated luxe detail)

Skirt

Although I do love a twirly skirt, if I had to pick one style as my ideal, it would be the pencil skirt. And there isn’t a more ideal pencil skirt than this Moulinette Soeurs number.

– it fits perfectly in the waist AND hips (figure-flattery AND tailoring win)
– it stays in place, all day, every day — no rotating, hiking up, etc. (comfort is key, remember!)
– it’s the perfect length to make my short legs look longer (see above)
– the colour palette (blue, red, white, black) is quintessentially “me”
– the floral pattern is quintessentially “me”
– the fabric is lightweight without being too wrinkle-prone

Top

This is one of the categories with which I struggled; perhaps it’s a sign of the fact that, most of the time, my tops are not the focus of my outfits. I ultimately landed on this J. Crew blouse for a number of reasons:

– it has a high but interesting neckline (no cleavage but still interesting!)
– it has sleeves that are the perfect length (for layering AND upper arm coverage) and sheer (no bunching!)
– it’s made out of silk, which feels nice against the skin all year round (I like a touch of luxe)
– it’s opaque where it counts (I’m not a fan of wearing camisoles — too fussy!)

Coat

This one was a no-brainer, based on what’s currently in my closet. I love this MaxMara coat because:

– camel goes with everything — no, really, it does! (versatility, yo!)
– the funnel neckline, when buttoned up, feels very classic and sophisticated (which is, basically, what I aspired to be)
– the arms are cut wide enough (in an intentional way) to allow for extra layering in the winter
– the weight is perfect for mild winters and spring/summer (versatility, yo!)
– it can be dressed up or down (did I mention versatility?)
– it works with pants and dresses (… you know the drill)

I would say that a classic camel trench (like my Burberry trench but in a solid colour) would be a tempting option for a purely aesthetic perspective, but it would not be as functional for my lifestyle. I need something I can wear over bulky layers (particularly blazers), and a trench would not accommodate that as elegantly as this cocoon coat.

Shoe

Pointy toe pumps for the win. And, as much as I love a bold coloured shoes, black pointy toe pumps by Stuart Weitzman all the way:

– the pointy toe elongates my leg line (height complex appeased)
– the 3 inch heel strikes the right balance between comfort and height
– the thin heel is classic rather than trendy (classy is as classic does … or something like that)
– no platform!
– it manages to be comfortable notwithstanding the lack of platform (comfort is still #1)
– in a pinch, black goes with everything (versatility, redux!)
– dark patent leather shows wear and imperfections less than non-patent leather (I’m also practical like that)
– they are crazy durable (I’m thrifty too)

Bag

This was, hands-down, the toughest category. I tend to love and buy bags for looks as much as function, which complicates things — the bags whose looks I love the most are not always the most functional. Still, since I had to finish the exercise, I ended up picking my MbMJ Mag bag and here’s why:

– burgundy goes with everything — or, in a pinch, the fool’s gold version is a good bet too (versa-say it with me- tility)
– it can be dressed up or down (versatili …yawn)
– it is a good size — neither too big nor too small (call me Goldilocks)
– it can be comfortably worn on the shoulder or cross-body (comfort AND versatility)
– it has a zipper (extra security but easy access)
– it has a front pocket for extra easy access (I’m lazy — really lazy)
– it has a turnlock closure on the front pocket (I’m a sucker for turnlocks of all kinds)
– the leather feels really nice but isn’t too delicate, and holds up to wear really well (remember, I’m practical!)
– it’s inconspicuously branded — the inner fabric lining is logo-ed but the bag is not otherwise instantly recognizable (I’m a bit of a snob. Or a big one, idk)

So that’s my list. Obviously, I could never get by with just these items in my closet, but they are things that will probably live in my closet for a very long time. The lists of “likes” for each item could easily turn into shopping guidelines, although I think I would benefit equally (or perhaps even more) from putting together a list of “dislikes” — methinks I smell a new project.

Your turn: tell me all about your Platonic closet!

15
Jan
2016

A How of Success and Failure

categories: Life, Trifles, Writing

Over the past year, I’ve had questions from time to time about my weight loss from people wanting to know – what else – how I did it. I never addressed it on the blog, because (a) that’s not really the focus of this blog, and (b) the answer is really boring. (I used MyFitnessPal to track my calorie intake, and cut out refined/processed carbs and sugar. That’s it. I told you it was boring.) But then, recently, I was talking to my husband, who is now working on losing weight and overhauling his diet to deal with his GERD symptoms, and I realized that there was a post about this that I wanted to write, after all. Indirectly, it’s about a “how” … not necessarily of losing weight, but rather a “how” of doing anything that is difficult and maybe a little scary. It’s a pretty simple “how” but, somehow, one that didn’t dawn on me until this past year and which seems, from talking to my husband, to be overlooked by others as well.

Before I go on, let me digress for a second. I emphasized that this is a “how” – only one. Maybe not even the most important one. (I think the most important one is deciding to commit to doing something difficult and scary, and deciding that it is so necessary to your personal fulfillment that not doing it is no longer an option.) There is no one, sole way of accomplishing any goal, and no magic secret that takes you all the way. Success, in my experience, is made up of little decisions – some so seemingly insignificant that you don’t even notice them – and the only thing they have in common is that, in some way, they propel you forward. Or sideways. Sometimes, the success you end up finding is not the success you thought you were searching for. I can’t tell you how you get there; I have no idea. But I do know that you won’t get there if you anticipate failure.

“Well, duh! Who starts any goal by anticipating failure, anyway?” you scoff. And I’ll tell you: most of us. I did it, for years. Let’s take my book, for example. I have been trying, in one form or another, to write that very same book for about a decade. I still have drafts on my oldest computer – of the first chapter, of the second or third attempt at an outline, of various character synopses – salvaged from hard drives of other computers long gone. For nine years, I failed to write that book. Some years, I wasn’t even actively trying to write, but the sense of failure stayed with me. And then, it happened. Last year, I did it – I wrote it. It took about 8 months, and it was painful, yes, but suddenly not an insurmountable challenge. I did it while being the busiest I’ve ever been. So, what changed? Only one thing.

I committed to doing it … and committed to not thinking about failing.

I didn’t give myself any “outs”. You know what I’m talking about. “I’m writing this for me, so it doesn’t matter if nobody reads it.” (Let me pause again here. If you’re a writer who writes solely for yourself, that’s awesome. I’m not denying that as a legitimate goal. I’m just not that kind of writer. I write because, fundamentally, I want people to read my words. If I wrote purely for my own amusement, I would probably never write. Because I can talk to myself any time I please.) The nature of “outs” is different – for everybody, for every activity. My husband, who is rocking his new diet & fitness regime, was talking about how it would be okay if he fell off the wagon for a day, here and there. For me, writing my book, it had always been: “even if I don’t finish, it’s okay.” And, really, the implicit message behind all of our “outs” is the same: it’s okay when I fail. The thing is, whether we realize it or not, our minds and hearts listen to the words coming out of our mouths. We don’t intend to anticipate failure. We don’t want to fail. But when s**t gets hard, our brains and our hearts remember the message we’ve been sending all along. It’s okay to fail.

This is not a post about tough love. Failure happens. Sometimes we have a hand in it, sometimes we don’t. I don’t want anyone to beat themselves up over it. It is okay if you fail. Sometimes, it’s the best thing that can happen, because you learn an invaluable lesson. Sometimes, it just plain sucks, and the only thing to do is move on. But if you want to succeed, don’t commit to a goal with the idea of failure firmly planted in your heart and mind. It might seem like a safety net but, trust me, that’s a lie. Strive, certain of success. Striving, certain of failure, is like trying to run a race with your shoelaces tied together. Your odds of getting to the finish line are better if you don’t do that.

[Let me pause – again, yikes – for just a teensy bit of tough love. Visualizing success, without doing any actual (usually hard) work, is nothing more than daydreaming, no matter what The Secret told your mom. Visualizing success, without doing the work, is like dreaming about winning the lottery without ever buying a ticket. The best advice I’ve read recently came from Mindy Kaling’s Why Not Me: “Work hard, know your shit, show your shit, and then feel entitled.” Feel entitled to success, and don’t tie your shoelaces together.]

“But,” you say, “I’m just being realistic. Success is hard, and assuming I’ll achieve it without any setbacks is setting up an impossible standard.” You have a point. And … I have a counterpoint. See, it’s a matter of perspective. Setbacks are almost inevitable, yes, but your attitude can make a huge difference in whether they turn out to be mere bumps in the road, or the end of the road. Let’s go back to my book example. If my attitude, starting out, is “it’s okay if I don’t finish”, guess what will happen the first time I run into writer’s block? (This usually happens every 10 pages or so.) I will do what I have done numerous times in the past; I’ll give up. The failure would seem inevitable – like it had been meant to be, all along. But if my perspective is “I will finish this book, and it’s going to be a good one, by golly!” then you know what happens? I get the same writer’s block, just as often. And I still think about quitting. Just as often. But I don’t – because I have somewhere to go, and this is just something that’s standing in my way. It’s not fate; it’s just an inconvenience. A bridge guarded by a troll demanding a toll of success before I can move forward.

Sorry, I may have gone a little overboard with the metaphors.

Back to the point at hand. It’s okay to recognize that, 99% of the time, success is hard. It’s especially good to remember that when you’re in the middle of dealing with one of its hardships. Experiencing hardship is not a sign of failure. It is not failure. Failure is how you react to the hardship. It’s one thing to say, “Adina, you will probably experience a lot of writer’s block, and that’s okay.” I mean, it’s not the most useful mantra to adopt when trying to write a book, but it’s inoffensive enough. It’s completely different from saying, “it’s okay if I don’t finish this book.” The truth is that most of us don’t anticipate hardship; we anticipate failure. My husband didn’t say, “it’s okay if I’m tempted to eat some chips & salsa now and then.” He said, “it’s okay if I fall off the wagon.” I’m telling you what I told him: don’t do that. You owe it to yourself to not do that. Assess your success or failure after you’ve reached the finish line, not before you’ve left the starting blocks.

For one thing, you may be surprised by what “success” and “failure” mean to you once the finish line is behind you. My book has sold a whopping, like, 20 copies. Had I told myself, 9 months ago, “it’s okay if my book only sells 20 copies” … well, there would be no book for me to talk about now. Whenever my conviction wavered during those long months of writing – and it did! Oh boy, did it ever – I was certain that I would feel like a failure if the book didn’t sell a lot of copies. So, by necessity, I told myself that it would. And you know what? I don’t feel like a failure now. Sure, I’m disappointed (a little or a lot, depending on the day), but that’s different. I’m proud of the book I wrote. I’m happy it has the chance to be read. And I’m freaking excited about writing the next one. Which will sell a million copies, naturally.

Changing your perspective is a funny thing. It might start in one area of your life, but it has a tendency to spread. All my life, I’ve been the kind of person who was overly cautious – realistic, I liked to say. Aim high-ish, but keep expectations in check. And, above all, don’t expect success – that’s presumptuous. I did okay for myself with that mindset. Yet, throughout most of my adult life, I felt haunted by the spectre of failure. I thought it was the fear of failure that was holding me back, but it was actually the opposite. I had grown used to keeping failure close at hand, like an illusory safety net. When I started to focus not on what I might not be able to do, but on what I wanted to do, I suddenly felt freer and, oddly, more courageous – in all areas of my life. Reaching for the moon is either gonna get you a chunk of lunar rock in your back pocket, or make you realize that, like, climbing Mount Kilimanjaro is awesome. Or that you’re really good at astrophysics. Either way, you will have done something difficult and scary and, most likely, pretty amazing.

22
Dec
2015

Looking Forward

categories: Trifles, Writing

Hey guys, sorry for the radio silence. It was not intentional … mostly. The last 6 months have been really intense, and the accumulated stress has left me feeling burnt out. After finally wrapping up my book, I decided to give myself permission to slack for a while. Well, outside of work, anyway. To be honest, it’s been challenging. I am so used to a go-go-go pace (which, as exhausting as it is, seems to suit my personality) that slowing down is proving hard to do in any kind of measured way. [I’m sure there’s an analogy to a duck or a swan or whatever water fowl paddling madly, without seeming to break a sweat. Or something.] Anyway, the long and short of it is: I just dropped everything. Talk about all or nothing.

Even as I’ve enjoyed my newly rediscovered “down time” (re-reading P.D. James’ Adam Dalgliesh novels, messing around with adult coloring books, and going to bed at a more reasonable hour), I’ve been feeling guilty about not accomplishing more. I have such a long list of projects I would like to do (Learning to use a sewing machine! Beading! Drawing! Writing interesting blog collaborations! Writing a follow-up book!) that I perpetually feel like I’m falling behind and wasting my life. Of course, that’s silly, and the rational part of my brain realizes it … but it’s still a difficult notion to shake. Every now and then, I’ll remember that I’m 35 and that the days of “plenty more time for that later” are, well, not as numerous as a decade ago. And the emotional tailspin begins anew.

I’ve been using some of my free time to think about the new year, which is approaching with alarming speed. In February, the Year of the (Fire) Monkey begins. I was born in August 1980, which makes me a Metal Monkey. My husband was also born in 1980. All of this is all around no bueno for me, come 2016. I’m not superstitious … except that I totally am, sometimes. As far as I can tell, the advice for someone in my position is to keep one’s head down and not make any waves. Needless to say, that’s like telling a Monkey not to breathe – we’re just not built that way – but I’m going to try.

My theme for 2015 was “soar”, and it proved to be an inspired choice. Looking back, I think I was able to do just that: soar above my fears, in both my personal and professional lives. Heading into 2016, I really wanted to have “reap” as my new theme, because the egomaniac inside is all about measurable success … and what else could follow a year of soaring except success? But as the clock keeps ticking down on this twelfth month, “reap” doesn’t feel right. It feels presumptuous, even now, which scares me a little – that uncertainty is either the voice of my fears, or the voice of reason, and neither answer is reassuring – but I’m trying not to dwell on it. Instead, I’ve been feeling my way towards a different new theme, and coming back to the same one. Or, rather, two. Two words: accept and change.

Accept change.

Probably the two hardest words in the dictionary for me, which is a sign that they are the right choice – right?

Let’s tackle “accept” first. To me, it implies acquiescence and passivity – the polar opposite of my personality. It’s a negative thing, because good things don’t just happen in my world – you work for them. You accept bad luck, misfortune, unpleasant but unavoidable events. As for “change”, that’s also bad. I hate change, even though I get bored easily and, in one way or another, I am always looking for the excitement of change. I know, it doesn’t make any sense to me either.

My perspective on both of these words is just that: a personal perspective. Neither word carries solely negative connotations – in fact, both can easily be positive. And it’s the positive that I’m aiming to discover in 2016. I want to embrace (not merely acquiesce) in growth (not merely change). I want to shift the way I think about myself and my space in the world. I want to be an optimist. I want to believe that, when you open your arms, what comes is good and true, and not something to be feared. I want to stop being afraid of change; I want to stop trying to control its parameters.

It will be hard.

But there’s no reason why I can’t make it. I’m fully aware of my privilege in having this as one of my biggest challenges. It’s easy peasy in the scheme of things. Practically nothing. And I will try to remember that, even when I give myself permission to wallow in (inevitable, let’s face it) self-pity.

OK, your turn: have you picked your “theme” for 2016? What is it? And if there any other Monkeys out there – let’s commiserate!