Our uniforms ...

A passion for fashion born in my mother's closet - Pant and skirt suits, multiple pairs of heels in their boxes (same style, different colors), cashmere sweaters, scarves, the occasional Pucci print, perfect pearls and lady-like jewelry - all found a way into my consciousness. An army of bottles, lotions and potions - lined up in perfect precision on her dressing table.  Jewelry that came out of it's slumber in the safety deposit box just in time for the party.  Her's was the first walk in closet - made to be hidden in - the Scottish wool perfectly scratchy against my face with a faint lingering whiff of Arpege - her collection of scarves a veritable riot of color and texture tied just so - her heels tapping a tattoo on the well-worn, turn of the 19th century, wide board floors.  Her's the first uniform - impeccable with not a pair of jeans in sight.

I can't always say that I dressed well, but I certainly enjoyed the process! I did have an actual uniform during high school.  Knee socks, clogs and a short tartan or khaki skirt - with a button down shirt and sweater - and cords in the winter when our legs would turn first bright red and then blue with the wind coming off the mountain.  In the land of the Fair Isle and fisherman knit, I was Queen - my closet regularly raided by marauding roommates.  Rough and ready to go, I hit the college quad running - I rebelled against the conscription and embraced yet another uniform ... jeans and T's ... Indian shirts, tie dyes and denim patches ruled the land and my days spent ripping out seams of faded jeans to make skirts lasted long into a time where others put on the stockings and went to work in finance.

I eventually appreciated the power tie and suit ... but that was short lived ... strong shoulders, strong hair and slouchy menswear had it going on long after the sensible shoes were kicked off and that tie ripped from my throat.  Button downs, turtlenecks, hats, gloves, vintage blazers and overcoats ... a pink double breasted jacket bought in Paris ... Levi's men's jeans ... Doc Martins ... Keds .... and still the sweaters ...

Student uniform, mommy uniform, teacher uniform, a woman of a certain age uniform .. we all wear them ... and for many the uniform is a safe place to be ... comforting in it's familiarity but with the potential for stifling creativity as it easily stagnates ...

As an planner, stylist and event designer, I spend most of my time pouring over my favorite magazines and websites .... stacks and stacks and more stacks of tear sheets haunt my waking moments and overflow onto the floor from my glass top desk ...a riot of color and style - Valentino bows, Marchesa draping, Lagerfeld structure, Calvin and Kors classicism, Dior bondage, Hilfiger sportif .... with a wink and a nod to who went before and who is waiting in the wings, there are many options for all of us ... and you don't have to wait for a special occasion (wedding or otherwise) to look your best.

Embrace your uniform, but clean out your closet ... donate to Goodwill and AmVets ... jumpstart your local economy and go get a new pair of shoes and an accessory or two .... mom jeans need to be set free ...

One more thing ... remember that you might just have a daughter, niece or granddaughter who likes to play in your closet ... what are you teaching her?