The Winter of My Discombobulation

Do you remember the Mary Tyler Moore Show? It's an oldie, it aired back in the 70's. Ms. Moore played career woman Mary Richards, who was super stylish, always pulled together, had an awesome apartment and wardrobe. Her life wasn't perfect, but her outfits and hair certainly were.


Yes, always so polished, except for that one episode when Mary was up for an award. She had a nasty head cold, stuffy red nose and all, she'd had a disaster with her typically perfect hair, hurt her ankle and at the last minute a wardrobe malfunction forced her to borrow a dress from her funky-hip neighbor Rhoda. As Mary limped up to the podium to receive her award, the first thing she said was "I usually look so much better than this!"


I'm no Mary, either Tyler Moore or Richards, but I'm having that moment played over and over lately. I want to wear a sign that says "I usually look better than this."


MY COLORING

2019 was my Year of Going Silver. While I thought there'd be more of it (grey) and it would be hard to get used to, letting go of the dye was one of the best decisions I've ever made, looks-wise. I'm so thrilled I got through it without either buying a wig, bailing and going back to the boxed color or pulling my hair out, strand by strand. It turned out so cool, really cool. And therein lies the only problem with my decision. It's thrown this former warm-toned Autumn into a multi-seasonal tizzy!


None of my tried-and-true colors look good on me anymore. Orange is a lemon, lime green is queasy and brown is downright poopy. My face looks pink and suddenly looks great with silver jewelry, while the rest of me is still rocking gold rings. How can the simple act of finding something to pull over one's head and not look like something the cat dragged in be so hard? The numerous trips to the thrift store - the numerous sweaters I've purchased for $5 trying to find any color that works - the donation pile in the garage stacked up with $5 sweaters to redonate - it's a circle of futility that is only benefiting charities at this point.


I believe I've stumbled onto the answer, though. Picking the brains of my friends Mr. Google and Sara from New York, my dilemma may be nearing its badly colored end. It appears I'm a Soft Summer who has neutral coloring, can wear both gold and silver, but must must must wear muted colors near my face. Muted, Jess. No vibrant oranges, no tomato reds, and slap yourself if you wear a heavy brown near your hair that's no longer brown. "Suited for Muted" is the new catch phrase for 2020. Goodwill pile in the garage, prepare for a wardrobe dump of Autumn colors.




MY SMILE

Because of some shifting molars that were causing some gum issues, I opted to get Invisalign trays this October. The thing they don't tell you about Invisalign is that you won't just be wearing clear liners. They will also be gluing "attachments" to your teeth to get things to move more easily. What do the attachments look like? A bit like tiny pieces of broken Tic Tacs. But on my eye teeth, more like the entire Tic Tac has been affixed. My eye teeth appear pregnant and ready to give birth any day. My lips catch on these attachments while the liners are off. When they are in my mouth? Then my lips look puffy and awkward, a bit like Meg Ryan after her ill-advised lip job, but without Ms. Ryan's adorable hair, figure and obvious knowledge of the perfect colors to wear. Soon I'll be done with this treatment and the ability to smile like a normal person will return, maybe around the same time I learn what "muted" means.

MY SKIN

Winter is hard on skin. The air inside is dry, and lots of ooey gooey moisturizer is necessary. It was probably not the best season to start a strong exfoliating process. One minute my skin is fine, the next minute it looks like a snake when it slithers out of its skin. Or rather, it looks like what the snake left behind. Not pretty. And on top of that, what else happened to this 57 year-old, recently grey-revealed woman wearing the wrong colors, the one with the awkward smile? Pimples. Yep, I have been getting break outs. Go. Figure.

MY HAIR CUT


Wait, you say, "She's happy with her hair, right? She has to be happy about something!" Yes, I'm so very happy about my hair color and that I don't have to think about it any more. I really love the color. I even made my "Memoji" grey-haired. But see that hair style? That is what I was warned about, the ever-so-joyful time spent trying to grow out a pixie cut. I heard it was hard. I heard it was awkward. I heard you either had to get it cut often or just often be annoyed with it. Maybe if I wasn't spending so much money at the thrift store buying wrong colored sweaters, I could be getting it cut more frequently. But just like I had to be patient and let my roots reveal themselves...ever...so...slowly...this funky style will grow out soon. I just have to get thru Winter and wait for Spring and my dry skin to Fall off and soon I'll find my Summer self. Muted, of course.