This post is not about vintage. I’m not wearing anything vintage today. In fact, nothing presently on my body is an item I owned prior to this time last year (which is an incredible rarity, considering how ridiculously impoverished I am).
But my outfit of the day got me thinking about vintage all the same. See, I’ve been in kind of a rut lately. My get-up-and-go… got up and went off somewhere else. (Somewhere warm, we can only hope.) This happens every few years, no matter how ridiculous, adventurous, or epic my life seems to be. I start wondering “what am I doing here?” and am seized by periodic ennui, punctuated by the notion that I am, in fact, living someone else’s life. (This also might be a convenient time to mention that I’ve struggled with anxiety and depression for the last 17 years, so if you’re also given to feeling this way, I love you and support you and you can make it to the other side!)
The worst part of this particular type of rut is that doing the things I love to do doesn’t help. I’m convinced that the only thing that will ultimately help me is to THROW OUT EVERYTHING I CURRENTLY DO, AND START COMPLETELY OVER FROM SCRATCH. Which is totally unreasonable, brain, get it together.
What does this have to do with vintage, you ask? Well… So I’ve decided to try to combat my ennui in a different way this time. For the past few days I’ve been getting out of bed, putting on colorful, fresh clothes, doing my makeup, coordinating my jewelry to my outfit, the whole nine. Normal people probably do this all the time. I’m not really what I would consider normal. But you know what? It’s helping. Mindfully dressing and styling myself helps give me that tiny extra boost I need to sit down and actually get real work done, instead of languishing in front of the same episode of Super Password I’ve seen 10 times (DICK CLARK. THE MOUNTIES. HAMBURGERS.)
This shouldn’t be a surprise to me, I guess, but I think back to midcentury ladies like Donna Reed and June Cleaver and I start to think that maybe there was something to doing the vacuuming in heels and pearls that didn’t totally involve “looking pleasing to your husband”. I’m sure that, at the time, there was a healthy bit of societal pressure to be fancy for the sake of all the menfolk around, but I’d find it hard to believe that mindfully setting one’s hair and applying makeup and carefully selecting one’s outfit didn’t also help boost many a lady through yet another day of mind-numbing housework.
What do you think? Does having a fancy day (even just to wash the dishes) help you? What else do you do to climb out of a rut?
P.S. Oh god, oh god, I know it’s the end of February. My post on the Vintage Pledge is coming! As soon as I decide what, exactly, I intend to pledge this year. O_o
P.P.S. All the images in this post (except my selfie, duh) came from Google. If you happen to be the person I
stole borrowed them from, I’m so sorry that I’m too dumb to know how to link to you from an image.