This is the face of somebody about to go have a gallbladder scan, who has been disallowed coffee until after.
I'm not sure what the clothing arrangements will be for this procedure, but my guess is that a 2-piece outfit is indicated. To that end, I am wearing Camellia as a top with my thrifted off-white Lee jeans, bought in June. It's hot for jeans, but these are a light color, and it will be cold in the hospital, I reckon (even if it wasn't cold at the dentist's).
I tried several different configurations before settling on a basic knot. There was the possibility of just wearing Camellia as a tunic, but she feels too long for me for that:
I mean, not bad, I guess, but I wasn't feeling it so much.
I also tried knotting the pockets and doing a kind of origami thing.
But it really didn't seem to work in any flattering way.
So I settled on this:
Which is fine. The pockets are a little bulky. It would be far easier to knot up a pocketless dress, but I think I've arranged the bulk all right, and it's not problematic.
I'll probably come home and un-knot her and wear her as a basic dress, but it's nice to have this variation. I haven't missed trousers, but I do like these.
More ruminations anon, but I have to go for this scan now.
LATER:
Here's what I actually wore out the door, in another experimental influencer-photo-sesh pose:
Yep, still wearing the hospital wristband. I am glad I wore pants and a cardigan, because reader, it was cold in the radiology department. I had to lie still for an hour and was happy I hadn't had coffee, because I mostly slept. Just as I was thinking I probably had time for a mental rosary to kill the last twenty minutes, the timer went, and that part of it was over. I had to drink some chocolate Boost with fat in it, wait half an hour, then lie down again for a one-minute image. I guess my gallbladder must have contracted –– the technician said, "And you didn't feel anything?" –– because after that I was free to go.
Fast-fashion cardigan, one of my last such purchases, and fake Birks from last year, on which the radiology technician complimented me. Yeah, I wish they were real Birks, but for cheap shoes, they've held up well and are comfortable and cute. As with all my other fast-fashion purchases of yore, I have no intention of getting rid of them until they fall apart, at which stage, yes, I hope to replace them with something a little more investment-level and sustainable. Until then, I shall continue to wear them and receive all the compliments and not apologize.
It's hot out, and I might ditch the jeans and just wear the dress, but honestly, I like this outfit a lot. These wider-leg jeans are very comfortable, and having never had white or off-white jeans, I'm really happy with the color. I think the whole thing plays well.
Actually, two hours later, I kind of like the un-knotted tunic look, too. Before, I thought it was weird, but returning to that picture: okay. I could do that.
This is why we don't do things in haste, folks. We sit with a decision (as they say), and we reflect. It's taken me my entire adult life to develop anything like impulse control, which I suppose is yet another aspect of the self-regulation which is a pillar of executive function. But with practice I am improving.
In the area of clothing and what I guess we're really forced to call wardrobe curation, again I think this is important. If your goals include things like sustainability, then obviously it's not very sustainable to purge your entire closet and then re-buy it, even if what you buy is better this time around, because you are a Better Person and have Done the Work. If your goals include things like avoiding anxiety, decision fatigue, and boredom, then again, you don't really do yourself any favors by deciding today that you hate everything and are getting rid of it. I mean, maybe you won't have decision fatigue, because you won't have anything to wear, but beyond that, you probably won't feel that much better for very long. You'll be bored with the one thing, and you'll be anxious, because what if the one thing won't suffice for situations that arise? I mean, if you're anything like me, you'll be those things. If not, then none of this applies to you, and you can go have some more coffee.
This is why taking pictures of yourself daily is helpful. It's kind of like the daily weigh-in on a weight-loss plan: not a record of consistent linear progress toward a goal, necessarily, but a record nonetheless of where you were, what you were feeling and thinking, and how all of that (somehow) expressed itself in what you wore on a given day. You might hate the picture the day you take it. You might end up changing your whole outfit, because what the picture showed you was something you didn't like.
But it's always illuminating to go back later and revisit that picture you didn't like. Maybe you still won't, and you'll say, "Well, it was a good thing I changed clothes, and now I know for sure that that combination doesn't work for me." Or maybe you'll say, "You know, that actually looks good. I actually looked good that day. I didn't think so, but I did."
In assessing and organizing my wardrobe, I've found that this part of the process is crucial. It's helped me identify what I truly do and don't like, of the clothing I currently own, so that I do move along things that don't work, but don't lose things that do, or can. Nat Tucker recommends going through your entire wardrobe to see how many outfits you can make out of existing elements, photographing yourself in these outfits as you do so. To date, I have not made time to do that, though I have hung things up together, especially as I was planning travel capsules. Maybe this fall, when the house is empty, I'll devote a day or so to creating and photographing fall outfits, just for a creative exercise. It would be helpful: I'd have both a photographic record of what didn't work so well (those who are ignorant of history are doomed to repeat it) and of what did work well (those who are ignorant of history are doomed not to repeat it).
Meanwhile, I'll just say what I like about the outfit I settled on, after some trial and error, this morning.
1. Blue. Reliably good on me. I always feel like a million bucks in blue.
2. Light-Dark-Color-Pattern. Pants are light. Camellia and cardigan are both darker; obviously they're also both a color, while my tan shoe provides a contrasting pop of color (that's why I changed into these from my blue EVA Birks). The cardigan's marl knit provides some very subtle pattern/texture.
3. I'm fine without the cardigan, which is a good thing on a hot day, but the addition of the cardigan means a long line that skims my hips: always good for the pear-shaped person.
4. I could have played with this more, but the knotted Camellia does not make an absolutely straight line at the waist of my jeans, and that is a good thing. A curved or slanted line is a much better optical effect, especially (again) for the person who carries heaviness in her hips and thighs. I don't want the effect of a body cut in half, but something looser and more relaxed, to blur that line.
All in all, I felt polished and put together when I went to the hospital. You don't have to be attractive to lie on the table under the imaging thingummy, but it doesn't hurt to feel that way.