Sweatpants or Sequins? Do clothes really define you?

If I had to give you a percentage for the amount of time I spend in sweatpants, I would say 99%. I may be slightly exaggerating but considering I don’t work outside the home I’d say that’s a good guess. Sweat pants/yoga pants are like pull ups for adults. Convenient and absorbent.

Anyhoo, dressed in my normal “wouldn’t be caught dead outside the house but have” outfit, I sat down to read blog posts this morning. Hmmm. Several about body image, clothes, confidence. I look down at my pink polka dot splotched pants. You ladies that use bleach to clean will understand. I think to myself “Have I gone too far the other way?”

Let me explain. I used to work in an office. I used to work in management. I used to wear a suit/dress up everyday. Been there, done that. It was at least a year after I had quit my last job before I had the guts to pitch most of that wardrobe. There were some real gems in there too and if culottes have come back, I am almost positive shoulder pads would have eventually come back in style too.

But now I work at home and find myself rotating between several key pieces. Let’s be honest. The closest, least dirty wins.

If I must go out to run errands, I do pull on a pair of jeans and a clean top. But don’t check any surveillance cameras please.

I have to admit, dressing nice for work gave me power and confidence. It does make you feel good about yourself. But ladies, you know it’s frickin’ exhausting. It used to take me an hour to get ready. I’m too old to hold a rolling brush in place with one hand while holding the hair dryer in the other for what seems like hours. Admit it! You have put your hands down leaving the brush stuck in your hair and contemplated styling an updoo around it.

So what do my clothes say about me now? I give up? Maybe. But guess what? I don’t care. I don’t know if it’s age or attitude but my clothes don’t define me. I like me. I’m a smart, confident woman in my fifties. If you choose to judge me by my appearance, you’ve lost out. But be careful. Because that next fancy dress party that you approach me at because I look fantastic and I’m dressed to the nines, be prepared for me to judge you on character. If you can’t take my sweats, you don’t get my sequins.

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