or A Makeover Story. I can’t decide which.

Dear, dear fashion gurus,

Please, please, please consider me. I once thought I knew what I was doing, and maybe I did. But that was nearly 2 decades ago now. And during that 20 years, I’ve watched 15 turn into nearly 35 (my 35 is on the 28th *sigh*), and I can’t possibly believe that amount of time has passed.

Don’t get me wrong. I’m glad to be, um, maturing. I love that I’m a mother of 3, wife of 1. And I’m usually content to hang at home with all of them. Make the produce sales. Frequent Target. Pick up Legos over and over. Drive a mini van. I wouldn’t be 15 again if someone held a gun to my head. It was a dreadful, uncertain time. But dammit, I knew how to dress, and what looked good on my body type! Which was, of course, very very thin, very very straight, and very very young. But now, well, now, I am not the girl I used to be. I’m a woman. A woman. OK, I said it. A grown-up woman. A grown-up woman who has had three children, through 3 C sections, had her metabolism hit the over 30 mark, and has discovered the fine art of drinking lots of appreciating wine. And the left overs of peanut butter and jelly crusts, and bits of macaroni and cheese. It’s not that I’m overweight. I not. But I just don’t know what to do with the, um, shape, that is left. The rounder, softer, not quite as gravity friendly shape. The shape I’m trying hard to learn to love.

And here is discovered an isidious rub. Learning to love your not so girly, much more womanly body is made a bit easier if the clothes fit nicely. More flattering. It’s easy when everything hangs baggy off the hips, you’re cute just because you got out of bed, and even your boyfriend’s old flannel shirt is sexy on you. So you finally realize you might need to adjust your style a bit, see yourself a bit more, um, sophiticated, not so teen. You face the fading 80s music, and set out determined to grow up just a bit. Just enough to not look ridiculous still wearing those legwarmers you can’t believe are back. So where to shop that fits the budget? Old Navy? Great prices, clothes made for anorexic/bulemic 14 year olds. How can a large tee shirt be only 7 inches across? How can an xtra large not reach my bellybutton? Who’s wearing the smalls? The xtra smalls? Newborn dwarves? The Gap is better. Seems a bit less confining. But a very small variety there for much more than yoga wear or office casual. What if you don’t take yoga or go to an office? What if you just need something pretty OK to wear to BiLo, or to get the brakes fixed, or to meet your hubby for lunch? Ann Taylor? Nordstrom? Banana Republic? Hell, one decent sweater there is gonna run a week’s grocery budget. KMart? Target? I’d actually like the clothes to last through one season. I’m not label conscious, really. But I do like quality, and a flattering fit. Where, or where is it? Is it anywhere?

And, even then, if I found the place, had the money, I’m not convinced I could do it alone. I just can’t see myself clearly. Not the way I am now. I see shadows, outlines of the girl before, several inches in from the actual silhouette in the mirror. Big problem here. I see me. Or who I think is me. I think shirt, pants, size. I go get the size I see in my head, and hey, whassup? It’s 2 sizes too small! OK, that’s OK. I am not needing to lose weight. Really. I’m telling myself all the way to the dressing room I like the way I am. I can live with who I am now (I think). I might can learn to love this body again. But help me redefine. Grow more comfortably into this phase of my life. I’m almost 35. Great. I’d like to just make the most of it. Wear it well, if you will. I don’t need to be 15 again, or 17, or 22…I just want to be the best 35 I can be. And I’m not sure what that is. How to let go of that, and go for this, with real enthusiasm.

I don’t want to be any fashion slave, don’t get me wrong. I don’t care about what others wear, do, how they “fix” their face, or don’t. Style their hair, or let it blow dry in the wind. I’m really not into all the surface over the substance. And sometimes when you guys totally dis some person’s outfit, I think it’s rude. But I’d like to sometimes go to some event, or just get dressed for the day, and feel really good in my skin because it’s not being pinched off at the waist. Or under my bra straps. Or better, know what I’m wearing something, like, dare I say, appropriate for my age? Not like I’m some mid thirties chick thinking she can pass for 21? Are tank tops OK if your arms are starting to get those little sags under them? Is it OK to wear some pants that fit tight in the butt, are do those have to be retired? What length pant, or skirt or jacket fits me best? And is still young. Because I am, you know. Still. Young. My mother-in-law says if you’re old enough to have lived through it once, you’re too old to wear it again. Is this true? Will I look completely ridiculous in collar up turned pink Izods? I’m thinking it looked ridiculous the first time around. But then, no one ever called me a fashion maven. What about all the other stuff coming back from my youth? Twist a beads? Lace fingerless gloves? Pegged leg pinstriped jeans? You guys seem to know how to take a bit of a trend, and grow it up. This, I need. I’m not ready for those little soft white walking shoes and pleated knit pants yet, but know I’m not pierced belly/drawstring silk parachute pants either. Where’s the cool middle ground? Or is it hip? Or bomb diggety fresh? I don’t know! And I don’t really care. I just wanna know where to get some clothes for the me I am now. And if I should choose my colors by seasons, what shoes I wear, or my blood-type?

And let’s not forget that if you should choose me, I’ll get a $5000 Visa card with which to fund my newly discovered, polished up look. Now that’s something that I’m never going to go out and do on my own. So again, even if I figure out my own thing, all by myself, I won’t be able to do a damn thing about it. Who has the money?

I would be an excellent protege’. I’ll toss anything in my closet you ask. You can give me a new haircut (as long as it stays long, and I can use hotrollers). I’ll take all your suggestions with excitement. Just please, please, pick me.