It's a love thing

Well. Now that I've caught up (mostly) on midterm grading, I can get back on here and let some thoughts out of my head.

So, the seasons have changed, the temperatures have dropped, and the summer clothes have been packed away. I always love getting my fall and winter sweaters out of their boxes. They are so familiar. And yet, this year felt different somehow. I took my sweaters out and had one thought: "Borrrring." I really felt discouraged because I was looking forward to wearing nice, new outfits to work, but all I found in the boxes were...my clothes from last year.

Duh.

For whatever reason, I put a lot more clothes in the donation bag this year than I usually do. And then, of course, I bought a lot more new clothes for this season than I usually do. (But hey--I shop and thrift stores and, when I feel like treating myself to "new" clothes, Target. I'm not exactly breaking the bank.)

I've been thinking a lot about why I felt so bored and discouraged by my wardrobe this year. Even a week after buying some sweaters at the thrift store, I feel like I need to infuse my closet with more color. I want form-fitting pants. I need black boots.

Never before have I been so concerned about what I'm wearing. This has almost reached the point of obsession. The theme of all this is: How can I look more feminine? How can I feel good about myself as a woman?

I thought it was because of my hair loss, that I'm compensating for being bald. But now I think it's much, much deeper. I think I really struggle with feeling worthy. I feel unworthy of attention unless I'm "pretty", undeserving of care unless I'm sick or struggling with some burden, and unworthy of love based on who I am and not how I behave.

I'm not quite sure where this comes from. I grew up in a home with two parents who loved me. We had a lot of issues, true, but I was loved. And I was told that I was loved.

Still, the more I feel unloved inside, the more I try to make the outside look as appealing as possible. By purging my closet and then refilling it over and over, I am actually running away from the real issue: I need to learn to love myself. The outer confidence will come from that inner love. I found this blog that has some tips for ways you can practice thinking of yourself in terms of a person who can be loved:

"How to Love Yourself" from glamdolleaston

The only thing I would add is this:  Inner love will come when I see myself as God sees me--and when I accept that God loves me no matter what.

Modest Me

I love fall for so many reasons, not the least of which is this:


(from Fashionista Trends)

Fall outifts! No pressure to walk around in itsy bitsy teeny weeny non-clothes. 'Tis the season of sweaters, jeans, scarves...and minimal skin exposure.

When I was a kid, I was known for rocking the "old lady" style. Long skirts, long pants, long sleeves. Modesty to the point where family members took it upon themselves to remind me that I was a girl and could show it once in awhile.

A late, late, late bloomer, I finally started wearing tank-tops (gasp!) in college. And short shorts. Once I even walked around in a sports bra with nothing else on top. Scandalous, I know.

For the last few summers, I have actually felt pretty good about my body and my ability to wear clothes that show a lot more skin than I ever thought I'd be comfortable showing. I mean, nothing trashy. But still, my dresses were shorter than ever before, and my shoulders saw a lot more sun than usual. This summer, however, I felt overexposed. Maybe it's because I work with a lot of Muslim women, and my daughter goes to a school where so many different cultures are represented (in large part through fashion choices). Or it could be that my daughter is getting older, and I want her to be protected. Maybe it came with dressing for a professional work environment. Maybe it's just because I'm getting older. Whatever the reason, I'm getting sick of seeing skin. It takes no creativity to bare your body. But to dress modestly in a way that is still lovely and feminine? That is more artful.

(I truly hope that the picture below is not offensive to any Muslims. I only want to illustrate a point about the contrast between differing standards of clothing for women.)

Look at this picture:



Maybe it's just me, but I find the modest clothing so strikingly beautiful. An outfit like that shifts the focus from the body to the overall design.

Please understand, this is not meant to be a religious commentary. I am totally unqualified to write about Islamic codes of ethics or laws. I'm also not trying to bring judgement down on women who like to show some skin. I actually do think it's important for women of all shapes, sizes and colors to challenge the idea of which body types are "allowed" to be shown off publicly. I'm just trying to redefine what I personally see as beautiful. My own definition of what a beautiful woman "should" look like dictates my buying decisions and my level of confidence as I live in the world. I don't want to be boxed into thinking that I can only be identified as a beautiful woman if I wear clothes that reveal my feminine body.

It has been important for my growth to be able to wear clothes that make me feel lovely--and to recognize that I really do deserve to be lovely. Now I'm simply owning the fact that I really do appreciate my body enough to guard it. I realize that I actually don't want men in general to see too much of my unclothed skin.

And I really think society is coming back around to more modesty. Say what you will--a quick web search will show you that modest fashion is making a huge comeback. Not that it ever went away, but it's getting more glory now.

I'm so looking forward to putting beautiful outfits together for the fall and winter--outfits that are aesthetically pleasing, colorful, creative, and reflective of my personality and values. I'll try to post pictures of what I come up with. Until then, check these looks out!



You can't go wrong if you model your look after Princess Kate.


Why not bring the jumpsuit back?

(Check out this great modest fashion blog, Clothed Much, here.)


Sweater dress. Oh yes.

(Shop for modest fashion at Mikarose!)

Bare or covered, be beautiful you. Be true to your values.

Secret Selfie

I wore hair the other night. And then I posted a picture of it on Instagram, which also ended up on Facebook:



A friend told me that I was obviously insecure and looking for affirmation.

The funny thing is that I did get a lot more "likes" on this picture than I usually get. Maybe I was just looking for an ego boost because I'm insecure. Or...perhaps I was just playing by the rules.

Facebook is such an interesting world--at least the way I use and experience it. A post about a new hairstyle blows up with 50 likes in a minute, a new baby gets over 100 in the same amount of time, and a homemade flower arrangement gets 17-20. A post about an organization rescuing young girls from the sex trade gets...a few likes. Maybe one share.

I used to get upset about that, but I think now I just accept the fact that Facebook has its uses. For me, it's not a place to get a message across. I've tried--it doesn't work in my circle of "Friends". No--I mostly use it for keeping my mom and sister up-to-date on my latest style (given that I had no style in all my years living at home) and getting sympathy and attention when I need a quick fix. I can get those things either by posting a vague yet clearly distressed status ("Days like this make me want to hop on a bus to Texas, change my name and become a bartender") or, as in the case above, by posting a carefully-crafted picture of myself that I know looks really good. I just pretend I don't know it looks good.

Is that bad? I think about friends and family who have posted "selfies". I recognize that they are putting themselves (or one version of themselves) out there, on display, in a show of vulnerability. They/we are looking for acceptance and confirmation of the beauty we think we see in ourselves. When I post a selfie, I know I will get lots of comments. People are always anxious to tell me how good I look because, well, I'm a bald woman and need a lot of encouragement. So I post a nice-looking picture to get a few oohs and aahs. Sue me.

When we make a change that we feel good about or accomplish something we're proud of, we want to share it. People have always done this--now the audience is just bigger. Rather than asking your man if you look fat in your newest mall purchase, you can ask 400 people at the same time. And they will answer you, because they are looking for meaning in the world of appearances as well.

So yes, it is shallow. But it also speaks to something that runs pretty deep, actually. Something that I write about over and over again. If there were no audience, would we still be posting selfies? Why not? Why do we need to know that someone else will be looking at our picture before we decide to take one? Why not take a selfie just for myself?

That's my challenge for you tonight/today/this week. Take some selfies and don't show anyone. In fact, take your best selfie ever and don't show anyone. At least not for awhile. Appreciate your own beauty without the need to measure it against any standards. Fill yourself with contentment that does not come from outer praise, but from inner recognition of your place in creation (Hint: you are the crowning jewel).

If you come to this place of self-love, then you can post your picture if you want. We will all love it. No one will judge you for posting a picture of yourself just to get attention. We all do it. We all want the world to know what we look like whenever we do something that looks good. Nothing wrong with that...as long as it's not identity-forming.

A little bleeding now and then

What a mess I was today. Let me give you a picture of what I looked like at about 2:00 in the afternoon:
--a new pair of shoes had given me a bloody heel, which stained the hem of my pants;
--my earlobe was bleeding from a cheap metal earring;
--days and days of nervous finger-picking had left most of my fingers scraped and raw;
--and, I over-squeezed the teeniest little blemish on my face, leaving an oozing red blood blister.

And I didn't care.

If I had run into anyone outside, I would have stayed and chatted head-on as the occasion called for instead of pretending to get a phone call or strategically turning my face to expose my unblemished side.

I guess I've just been too tired to care lately. Either that, or I feel older. Two years ago, or even last year, all I cared about was looking good. Now, I still try to look good, but I just don't put the same amount of time and energy into it. And I feel much more free. Why try to hide my humanity?

I have a challenge for you. Give yourself a blemish. Not literally. I mean, dare to let some raw, real part of yourself see daylight. If you're bleeding, let it show instead of smearing it over with cover-up. Then take a step back and get some perspective. There are so many facets to daily human existence--do you really have the energy to fret over the assumed perception that you have both invented and yet also fear to face?

All Dressed Up

How many of you feel like it's a waste to get dressed up if no one will see you? I get these nice work digs on, drive to work, sit in the tutoring center with no customers, and then drive home to change clothes. By the time my husband gets home, I'm "bald, sweatpants, food stains" mom. I will often stay in my work clothes until he gets home, no matter how uncomfortable I am. Then, of course, I end up getting taco sauce or vegetable oil on my nice clothes. But what's the point of looking nice if no one's looking?

Why can't I just be good enough for myself?

Here's my plan:

Step 1. I'm on the hunt for super cute lounging clothes that I can feel sexy in at home.
Step 2. Time to invest in more big, dangly earrings. They dress anything up!
Step 3. Sending pics of my fancy self to hubby at work? Why not?!
Step 4. Look in the mirror at work and say "Wow, you look really nice, honey." And believe it.
Step 5. Go to the grocery store in dumpy clothes whenever I can to break the habit of wondering what people, men in particular, think of how I look.

What would you do?

Worth 1,000 words

"You're so beautiful."

"You can really pull off the bald look."

"Bald girls are sexy."

All of these lines and more have been told to me at some point since the onset of my alopecia. You'd think by now that they would have sunk in.

The problem is, a picture is worth a thousand words. And my identity and definition of beauty have been shaped by millions of images that don't reflect the truth of the words people tell me. I don't think in words; I think in pictures.

Pictures like this:



The princess with the long, golden locks shining in the sunlight. The dashing rogue kissing her in all her feminine loveliness. Well, if that had been a bald princess, the "man in black" would probably have fallen off the tower as his hand slipped off her smooth scalp...

Or this:


The mother of all hot kissing scenes. Sadly, kissing in the rain is not sexy when you're a bald woman. If you're wearing a scarf, it turns into a sopping rag plastered on your head. You can't brush that away from a lady's face. If you're wearing a wig, you turn into a wet dog--PLUS, the netting underneath shows through. If you happen to be sans headcover in the rain, then a wet mack session would turn into a manual slip 'n' slide for your partner. Maybe that would be sexy...but it's unlikely.

Ah yes, this one:



It goes without saying that this is an impossible look for a bald woman to pull off. And a scarf or wig in the wind? Too precarious.

Countless, endless images that do not represent me, yet continue to define what I want my life to look like. When I kiss my husband, I look at us from the outside and I cringe. Can you imagine a man kissing a bald woman and it looking even remotely romantic? Probably not. That's because there are no images of that to get into our psyche.

So, I'm on a search for some new pictures. Here are a few I found:


Rosanna Savone, bald bride and author of liv.luhv.rahyt (See it and love it here).


Kylie, another beautiful bald bride (read her story here).




Stefania Ferrario, model (check out her page here).


Sandra Dubose-Gibson, Mrs. Black North Carolina 2011 (See the full story here).


The only image I could find of a man kissing a bald girl...we need to work on that.

And, finally, I will add what I can to this growing bank of images:

A bald woman and a mirror. Not usually seen together.

So--if you find anymore for me, send them to redefinelabelleza@gmail.com or post them to my Facebook page!

Farewell?

Jennifer Lopez. I have loved her ever since Selena.

But I have to admit, she's not exactly a healthy role model. I mean, she's not someone I would want my daughter to emulate.



She seems very down-to-earth in interviews, but I have to wonder about a mom in her forties who does a photo shoot like this for publicity. I really hope I'm not coming off as judgmental here--I have just realized how important it is for me to examine what or who I follow in order to have integrity as the author and promoter of this blog. I'm using her as an example, but I could just as easily be talking about Madonna. Or Cher. Or etc., etc., etc.

Performers like Jennifer Lopez are in the entertainment business. They do whatever it takes to sell records. As a listener, I fund their message. And most often, their message is that sex sells and women are valued for their sexual potential. Sex appeal is even valued over motherhood:


(http://www.lhrtimes.com/2013/01/18/jennifer-lopez-would-like-to-have-more-children-134793/)

So I am faced with a dilemma: I love to sing and dance to her music. I mean, I really love it. But, her message gets into my head and my soul through the lyrics, the beat, the dance moves, the video--it's all affecting how I see myself and define beauty, whether I want to admit it or not.

So, do I totally ban her from my playlist? Or do I listen to my favorite songs once in awhile but don't endorse the videos? Or...do I chill out and try not to overthink this?

Some days I am convinced that it's fine to listen to popular radio now and then. I tell myself I really like the beat (which I do so much that I can't drive my car straight if I have dance music on) and that the music is not a problem for me. Other days I feel slimy listening to the radio, as if my soul were twerking off in a dark, sweaty club.

The problem with trying to stay true to the message of this blog is that cultural definitions of beauty and its enmeshment with sex are so pervasive that I would have to make some radical lifestyle changes in order to make any real stand. I couldn't listen to the radio, I would have to totally clean up my Spotify playlists and find new music to clean the house to, and I definitely couldn't go to Zumba. Which would suck.

When does "just feeling good" about music and developing some confidence as a living-room-only dancer cross over into the dark territory of complicity in the world's efforts to taint true beauty and keep women in subordinate citizenship through sexual objectification and enslavement?!

Sorry J-Lo, you might have to go.

I know our culture is hostile to any message that preaches radical lifestyle change (unless it's a diet), but I really think the benefits of a strict "no sex object" diet from my entertainment intake are worth examining, at least as this blog's creator.

What do you think? Am I being a little over-the-top, or is this just what the doctor ordered for the upcoming generation?