I always thought I was a relatively fashionable dresser. Not runway-worthy, of course. I knew there was room for improvement. But I thought I was doing reasonably well.
Until I spent four hours in my closet with a “personal stylist.”
I was expecting an “Atta Girl” session, of course with a fair amount of editing and fine tuning. What I got was my own personal “What Not To Wear” episode, only I was footing the bill. Apparently my “style,” in its present incarnation, vacillates between “Midwesterner” “Southern Woman” and, my personal favorite, “Dallas Housewife.”
None of which was uttered in a tone that sounded remotely complimentary. (Having known lovely, stylish women in every one of these regions, I thought the greatest insult was to them, in being compared to me). Nearly everything apparently either ages me, looks too young, looks too dated or doesn’t flatter my figure.
My closet is basically a gigantic cornucopia of crap
Oddly, once I got past the sting—and the realization that I have wasted a LOT of money on clothing I don’t love and doesn’t flatter me—I was thankful for the experience. I realized that I have fallen into a rut, and that it is way past time to climb back out.
For lack of a better term, I’m going to call it the Rut of Randomness. It signifies a lack of intentionality. Basically, I was buying random pieces—a lot of random pieces. I bought items because they were on sale, or because I needed something and they sort of fit the bill, or because they were on sale, or because they were on sale. You get the idea. I thought I was saving money, what with all of the stuff that was on sale and all. But I wasn’t.
I was building a random collection of stuff I didn’t love, that didn’t go with anything else in my closet. And so I would stand in the midst of a really ginormous clothing collection in the morning, and complain that I could find nothing to wear. And it was true. Granted, I could cobble together a total of perhaps four or five relatively attractive, complete outfits. But the cost/benefit ratio, in terms of money, time and mental energy, was off the charts.
Here’s the thing
In my prayer, I am realizing that the Rut of Randomness is not limited to my closet. It has invaded large swaths of my life. The Closet of My Life is full of a lot of stuff. I have a business (real estate), a ministry (speaking and writing), and a family (my parents, siblings, nieces and nephews, and good friends.) All of which are important, and none of which are going into the give-away pile with my cast-off clothing.
And then there are random projects. I’m taking a cooking class. (If you think my “What Not To Wear” experience was bad, imagine what a “Top Chef” would say to me. The mere thought makes me shudder.) I’m seeing a nutritionist. I just finished Christmas shopping and Christmas decorating and writing cards. And, of course, there’s the wardrobe project. And other chores and projects to numerous to list.
It’s all great stuff. But I wake up every morning to all of this “stuff.” When I’m not “at work” with my business, what am I doing? I wander from project to project. And whichever one I’m working on, I’m feeling like I should be working on a different one. Not surprisingly, my world is full of half-finished projects, just as my closet was full of half-finished outfits.
Change is coming
So my theme this coming year is “simplify.” I am (eventually, after the holidays) going shopping with my stylist, to simplify my wardrobe. I tried so many times to do it myself, but I obviously need the help. I can’t do it on my own.
In the same way, I’m going to spend some time with the Holy Spirit—during the holidays—to see what He and I can do to simplify the rest of my world. I’ve tried to do that on my own many times as well, but it hasn’t worked. I need Him to weed out the chaff, to help me to prioritize.
The New Year is a time of recalibrating, of focusing on what really matters. Unfortunately, it is also a time of year filled with many other distractions.
Join me in simplifying.
