On Monday, I had a two-hour dental appointment scheduled. Going to the dentist is not my favorite thing to do and listening to the drill or the scraping of tartar not my favorite past-time.
Maybe that was the reason that I chose to wear an orange plaid shirt, orange pants, and my lime green faux seude jacket to the dentist. To use colors to brighten my day. To not be afraid of what others would think of me.
Sitting down on a bench in a car on the R train at 9:30 a.m., I saw a few people noticing my color combination. And, as usual, I looked around to see theirs. In a car when all the seats were taken and many passengers were standing, I saw only one other person who was not wearing a solid black or dark colored jacket or coat.
The other person was a woman wearing a dark blue or black jacket covered with bright colored flowers. Lovely, I thought. And looking closer, I saw a few bright colored sweaters, shirts, and other clothing underneath the ’standard’ New York outer garmets.
Wearing black coats or clothes is standard for New Yorkers. It’s a color that wears well (dirt and stains aren’t as obvious) and goes with almost anything. Also, it’s the choice for the severe look popular in fashion, design, and other fields.
Growing up in Los Angeles, I remember that my mother didn’t want any of her four girls to wear black. Since I was a size 18 when I just 12, I would go with my mom to Lane Bryant or the large size women’s section of department stores to try to find clothes that fit. About 98% of those clothes were black.
My older sister Alice made many of my clothes on a then old pedal powered Singer sewing machine. Ten years older than me, she chose to work her magic with bright colored cloth, never black. There was one exception. One year I was a witch for Halloween and my sister Alice designed and created a fantastic costume for me complete with a homemade hat. That costume won a prize at a competition held at our local park. Alice created many costumes for me and another sister; we always won ribbons at local events.
A few years ago at the urging of a close friend, I went to a color consultant and was told that I should never wear black. He said that my color was a ”bright spring” and that I could wear shades of brown but not black. Going through my closet, I purged a lot of the dark clothes that I thought would slim me and help me fit in. I kept one black 2-piece top and skirt for evening or special occasions. One occasion was Alice’s funeral in 2003, when, over my mourning clothes, I wore a yellow jacket.
Writing this a few days after what turned out to be a pretty painless trip to the dentist, I realize that the colors on the subway car on Monday struck a memory chord. The memories of the many homemade prize-winning Halloween costumes Alice created. Memories of the choices my mother and sister made for me as a child. Memories of the encouragement to not be like all the other girls but to be fearless about standing out by wearing a bright color combination, a combination I’ll wear as a leader in professinal groups, educator in front of audiences, coach who sits across a desk from her clients, passenger on a subway car.
Happy Halloween! Hope your day is a bright one. Now, I have to go and decide what I want to wear today.