Most days, I’m so absorbed in my laptop that I hardly notice the world around me. However, during a recent trip to my favorite café, two young women caught my attention. One was clad in a vibrant fuchsia top, while the other sported electric blue pants and sneakers as green as a freshly mowed lawn. Their lively chatter took me back to my own youth, a time before my wardrobe faded to muted tones.
As I sat there in my typical blue jeans and a black shirt, nostalgia washed over me. I was reminded of the carefree days of my teenage years, the pre-college, pre-career, and pre-motherhood moments when I roamed the mall with an adventurous spirit, inspired by Ferris Bueller’s philosophy that “life moves pretty fast.” Back then, I would savor the scent of new clothes I couldn’t afford, dreaming of the vibrant purple jacket I had put on layaway. Those were the days filled with possibilities.
Flash forward to today, and I find myself in the midst of midlife, with countless milestones behind me: career choices, marriage, buying a home, and raising children. My focus has largely shifted to my sons’ activities, and while I could afford more clothing, the luxury of leisurely shopping has become a distant memory. I’ve settled into a wardrobe dominated by black, a common choice among women my age.
As I gazed out the window, I tried to remember the last time I wore red—a color my mother always insisted suited me best. Memories flooded in: a pair of red sneakers in college, a chic red blazer early in my career, and a ruby dress that sparked a memorable date at a holiday party. Yet, over the years, I found myself gravitating towards neutral shades, wearing bold colors only during vacations or on particularly good days; it all depended on my mood.
Reflecting on this, I recognized the gradual fading of my wardrobe. By the end of my 20s, the reds had dwindled to a few colorful tops or scarves, becoming even more muted during the chaotic early years of motherhood. My closet had morphed into a collection of black, white, gray, and beige—the colors of efficiency.
Driving to my younger son’s basketball game, I recalled a recent conversation with my mother. She’d mentioned, “I’ve been wearing brighter colors lately. You won’t believe it’s me.” Curious, I asked her what she meant. For as long as I could remember, her wardrobe had been filled with blacks and browns. When I eventually saw her closet, I was astonished by the vibrant hues she had embraced. “Are you going on vacation? Or on a date?” I teased her. She chuckled, “Nope, just thought it was time to add some spice.”
Perhaps this was her way of rediscovering herself after years of raising us and working. She had even taken up hiking and road trips, things I’d never seen her do before.
Later that evening, I stood in my own closet, staring at the hangers lined with neutral attire. I couldn’t help but wonder what had happened to that adventurous girl who once rode horses and dirt bikes. More than two decades later, I found myself in a wardrobe dominated by muted tones, realizing I had spent my 30s focused on all the reasons I shouldn’t do something instead of contemplating how I could.
That week, I snuck in an hour at the mall and came home with a cabernet blouse, purple running shorts, and an emerald-green cardigan (not that I intended to wear them all at once). The day I donned the cardigan, a friend complimented me at the bus stop, saying, “You look fantastic!” Later that evening, my husband chimed in, “That green looks amazing on you.” It made me ponder: was it the color, or the way it made me feel?
Months later, I found myself reflecting on this question once more when a priest delivered an insightful sermon in a deep amethyst robe. Rather than recounting the Christmas story, he spoke about how all birthdays celebrate the number of years someone has been a light on this planet. As I sat on the hard wooden pew, I thought about the grayness that often accompanies aging and whether our light must naturally dim with age or if we can choose to keep it bright through our decisions.
It’s been four years since that café encounter, and far more than my wardrobe has evolved. I’ve gone back to school, traveled to Peru with my family to volunteer, and even hit the dance floor with friends again. In the process, I recognized that being mindful of the colors I wear—yes, even when opting for black—encourages me to think about all the possibilities life has to offer.
Green has become my new go-to color. I wore it during my first half-marathon, a challenge that reminded me and my sons that each season of life brings new opportunities to flourish.
To learn more about the journey of self-discovery and the vibrant colors of life, check out this insightful piece on the importance of color in our lives. If you’re considering at-home insemination options, this online retailer provides reliable insemination kits to support your journey. For additional resources on pregnancy and home insemination, visit Progyny’s blog.
In summary, embracing color in my wardrobe has not only revived my style but has also reignited a sense of adventure within me. Life is too short to fade into the background; it’s time to celebrate the vibrant hues that make us feel alive.
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