And somehow packed confidence too

I did a thing this past week. I went to a writer’s workshop – a casual event for sure, but an opportunity for me to try something I’ve been meaning to do for a while now.

Ever since Covid, I have not dressed my best. Hell, if I’m being honest, it’s been since my last divorce that I haven’t been dressing my best.

It’s hard to dress for success when you’ve got snot, baby puke, and whatever the dog just rubbed on your crisp linen jacket. I’ve been wearing jeans and sweatshirts or T-shirts, with the occasional skirt during the holiday festivities – which, let’s face it, as a newly divorced woman with a preteen and an infant, I was not being invited to – so I pretty much lived in very casual clothing.

It helped that I have lost nearly 30 pounds in the last year, so I was looking forward to not only buying some new clothing that fit me, but also some clothing that highlighted my new shape and helped make me look a little more professional.

I even packed a dress.

I brought two linen jackets – new ones, without baby puke on them – and a variety of things that could be worn under them: form-fitting tank tops to wear with linen slacks, or a pair of jeans if I was feeling out of my comfort zone.

I also brought an adorable black linen tube-top romper. The kind with the genie pants that every woman my age dreamed of wearing when they were little girls, thanks to Barbara Eden.

I brought the most beautiful pair of lemon-yellow kitten heels that matched a leather bag I owned.

I didn’t bring sweatpants or Crocs. I didn’t even bring a pair of tennis shoes. Just the lemon kitten heels and a pair of black flats that go with everything.

I am not a fashion guru. Ask anyone – they will tell you I do not have any kind of fashion sense. All I know is I don’t dress like many of my female peers who, for one reason or another, have leaned into very unappealing dresses and clothing that bring out the gray of their skin tone.

Okay, I only have one peer like that. Most of us just dress for comfort.

I went on a weekend road trip with a friend last month, and she dressed impeccably the whole time. I’ve known this woman since we were in preschool, and she has always dressed so smartly. I decided I could do it too.

I can’t – I still don’t have her fashion sense – but I was able to put together a handful of outfits with just a few basic pieces.

And you know what happened?

First of all, I was one of the few people at this event who had an elevated wardrobe. Most of the women at this event wore the standard middle-aged outfit: oversized shirt – either pullover or button-up, untucked – paired with oversized pants.

And no shame. I get it. I wanted to hide all my flaws too, and did, as mentioned above, for the longest time.

But if I learned anything from my friend, it’s that you can dress nicely at any size. Muumuus just draw attention to what we’re trying to deny.

The second thing I noticed was that I carried myself differently. Whether in the airport or speaking in front of strangers, I had acquired confidence I didn’t know I had – and it was only because I was dressing nicely.

I stood up straight. I was proud of the way I looked. As a Minnesotan, we’re not allowed to take pride in anything we do, but I did. I liked the way I looked. And yes, I was secretly comparing myself to everyone in tennis shoes and cargo pants.

People took me more seriously. As a middle-aged woman, I can be invisible. This is helpful when speeding, but not so much when I’m trying to get the last signed copy of a beloved author’s latest book.

With my newfound confidence and kitten heels, there was nothing out of my reach.

Turns out it’s not really about the clothes.

But it’s also not not about the clothes.

Because the second I put on actual shoes – and let’s give some credit to the lemon-yellow kitten heels, they did some heavy lifting – and stopped dressing like I might clean out a garage at any moment, I became a person who apparently has something to say.

And honestly, I’ll take it.