I actually already wrote this post before, but through a series of unfortunate events, much less dramatic and exciting than the book series, I have lost it. However, I will never lose what I felt when I wrote it or how the clothing felt when I wore them so I will attempt to re-write with the same emotion albeit different words. Because for me, every outfit is a feeling, clothes are emotional and they either make me feel a certain way or I’ve chosen them because I feel a certain way, and feelings are hard to forget.
On this particular day, it was cold, bitter cold and I wasn’t ready to dress for the cold. I had things that I still wanted to wear before Mother Nature deemed them inappropriate for maintaining an adequate body temperature. Instead of giving in to a parka and pants I bundled up and layered my original look, adding thick woolly socks, an oversized tassel scarf wrapped around twice over a large wool coat and used a brown leather belt, the type I normally reserve for high waist denim, to secure the coat shut so that not a puff of cold air made it into my warm haven. Of course I put on a hat, since we know from the constant chiming received as children, that most of the body’s heat is lost through the top of our heads.
Layering, I’ve found, is how I get through the transitional periods between really freaking cold and really freaking hot. It allows me to wear my hot weather clothes deep into in the next season and then again much sooner than I could wear them alone. Layering also allows a sense of individuality, putting things together that no other person is likely to own in their closet – but it also does something even better – it allows me to justify the designer purchases I make when I know I can break seasonal trends and wear the pieces longer.
The inner agony I felt when confronted with the option of re-writing this post was enough for me to forget about it and move on. I didn’t remember the images I used or the context I had wrote in and I definitely didn’t have the time, but even I can’t convince myself to forget about something that is left unfinished. If you read this post the first time, I hope you gained a different perspective with the same message the second time around, or if anything learned like I did, that even when something is taken away, if it’s worthwhile to you then it’s worth doing again.
Oh, and of course, I hope you got a thing or two out of it about layering, how it allows custom uniqueness combining pieces that only you own together; because that’s when you harness the magic of making an outfit your own, with a deeper meaning that others can see, but only you can feel.