Lynda DePompei Design

So, I'm ready to tell you about one of the secrets I've been keeping from you. A few weeks ago, a designer friend and I got together and spent the whole day shooting her magnificent garments. To say this woman is talented would be a serious understatement ... she created my wedding gown (no small feat) from a picture I gave her, and to be honest, I credit her for how I looked on my special day. Don't get any ideas, though; I was quite lucky. She rarely does wedding gowns, but she'd be happy to dress the mother-of-the-bride. Or dress you for your next social event. Or, for that matter, round out your fall wardrobe with some one-of-a-kind jackets that will make you the envy of the office.

And now she's blogging! Here's a sneak peek of what you'll see on her blog. Now, go to her blog (http://lyndadepompeidesign.blogspot.com/) and start following her. And be her friend on Facebook. And send her an email about something special you have in mind for yourself! You simply won't regret it. Carry on.

The Uniform Project

This morning I put three bags of clothing on the front porch to be picked up the The Kidney Foundation. I think they have me on speed dial. I donate to them pretty regularly, and I like that my gently used clothes might go to someone who needs them.

When I was a child in school, I had to wear a wool plaid uniform to school every day. Like most girls of a certain age, I found this confining -- at the time. This may, perhaps, explain my overstuffed closet(s) and my conflicting need to simplify.

In retrospect, the idea of having one frock (or five identical ones) strikes me as a kind of saving grace. No more trying to match blacks or whites in the dim morning light. Imagine the ease with which you would face each day! Whatever flair you decide suits your mood that day can be added at the last moment, but you know what you are going to wear.

The Uniform Project not only solved the what-to-wear problem for Sheena Matheiken, but has also raised $103,177 for poverty-stricken children in India so they can go to school. The designer of the famous little black dress, Eliza Starbuck, was ready to drop out of the design scene when she met Sheena and was convinced to design this special dress. As I watch the video, I think, "I could really use a dress like this." Couldn't you? Go, help me convince her here and perhaps we can all have one soon. Also, check out some of their fans' answers to, "what should I wear today?"

Confession

I’m a girly-girl. Okay, a reluctant girly-girl. Actually, there are probably ten or twenty other labels that I would prefer before that even. I even find the term 'girly-girl' somewhat vexing, as if I'm a child wearing ruffles and bows, which I am not. I would rather spend an hour at Lowe’s than the mall, yet I’ve been known to get up at 3am because there’s a sale on Vera Wang shoes. I say I’m a reluctant girly-girl because the concept is so loaded with preconceptions. Think of Paris Hilton; all glamour, no brains. Fashion is the considered the intellectual equivalent of donuts; delicious but completely lacking in nutritious value. If you care about fashion, then you must be an airhead, right? And it’s certainly not the realm of Feminists. Or is it? Is dressing like a man really a feminist gesture?

For years I battled this lust, exclusively preferring intellectual pursuits until I decided to come out of the closet, so to speak.

Months ago, I saw a PBS special called The Secret World of Haute Couture. It changed my life. Not because I was impressed by the unimaginable wealth of women who sit in the front row at fashion shows in Paris and habitually buy haute couture, but I was impressed by the reverence these women had for designers like Karl Lagerfeld for his genius and artistry. Isn’t this the same reverence late Victorians had for Monet? And if you care about esthetics, then inevitably you have to turn an eye to the art you wear on a daily basis. The shapes, colors and textures begin to tell a story about who you are. Not only are we following the basic rules of decency in covering ourselves, as well as protecting the skin from the harmful effects of UV rays, our clothes are a form of self-expression. The clothes you wear, sometimes in spite of yourself, send a message to the world. If you choose a pair of pink sweat pants with the word “Juicy” on your butt to go to the store, your message is one of woeful ignorance. But far more important than the impression you make on others is the impression you make on yourself. There is a kind of art and ritual involved in putting on fancy shoes and a spritz of fine perfume; and if you don’t believe me, ask a little girl playing dress-up.

If you think, as I once did, that you can somehow remain outside of the fashion conversation, I have to disagree. Clothing is a socioeconomic and heavily politicized industry. Universities have devoted entire quarters to this topic. If you live in the Western World and wear clothes, then you are a part of the conversation. Since you are, why not be deliberate about what you say in this conversation?

My childhood aside when my mother made clothes for us, I have had one garment made expressly for me and that was my wedding dress. Based on a design by Reva Mivasagar called ‘Belle Epoque,’ the dress perfectly epitomized the Edwardian era. Finished with a cloche hat covered in silk tulle and embroidered, satin Mary Janes with kitten heels, I felt like a princess for one day. A remarkable garment indeed, as Colonel Peacock on Are You Being Served? once ironically observed.

But I work for a living and every day can’t be your wedding day. I’ve discovered that in corporate America, I need people to take me seriously and believe me capable. Cargo pants or the latest frock from Forever 21 cannot communicate that point. As a creative member of the team, my range is broader than in, say, Accounting, but the lines become blurred when you consider the fading of Casual Friday and this new trend towards more formal business attire in response to the downturn in the economy. (It’s often been said that the length of skirts on the runway are a good gauge of the economy.)

I say all this with a big BUT, and this is about scale. I’m a reluctant girly-girl, but I’m so much more. But: substance matters. But: how well you do your job matters. But: how kind you are to strangers and whether you recycle matters. But: how patient and nurturing you are towards your children matters. But: how meaningful your life is with a loving spouse, an aging cat and young plants matters because at the end of your life, they’re not going to talk about how great you looked in that Armani suit or who gets those Vera Wang shoes.

But who wants to live every day as if tomorrow is their funeral?