While I often find myself absorbed in my laptop at my local café, a vibrant duo caught my eye—two young girls adorned in the lively hues emblematic of youth. One wore a bright pink shirt, while the other sported electric blue pants and sneakers the color of fresh grass. Observing them stirred memories of my own adolescence, when I too reveled in color, a stark contrast to the muted tones I favored now.
As I watched them chat, I was transported back to my pre-college days, a time when I strolled through malls with a carefree spirit, reminiscent of Ferris Bueller’s famous adage, “life moves pretty fast.” I would revel in the scent of new clothes, dreaming of the purchases I couldn’t afford. Those moments were filled with the possibility of what could be.
Now, as I navigate the middle years of my life, I reflect on the milestones that have shaped my journey: establishing a career, marrying, purchasing a home, and raising children. My focus has shifted predominantly to my sons, allowing me to prioritize their school activities and sports events over personal indulgences, such as shopping. Although my financial means have improved, the luxury of leisurely shopping has dwindled. I have become accustomed to the simplicity of black, a color often favored by women in my demographic.
Peering out the café window, I attempted to recall the last instance I wore red—the color my mother always claimed suited me best. I remembered a pair of red sneakers in college, a red blazer during my early career days, and a ruby dress that sparked a memorable encounter at a holiday party. However, over the years, I found myself gravitating towards less vibrant options, often reserving bold colors for vacations or special occasions, dictated more by my mood than by choice.
Recent years have presented numerous challenges, from parenting dilemmas to the loss of loved ones, leading to a gradual fading of my wardrobe’s vibrancy. By the time I reached my late twenties, my once bold wardrobe had transitioned to muted tones, further subdued during the early years of motherhood, where practicality reigned supreme—black, white, gray, beige, and the ubiquitous little black dress became my staples.
While driving to my younger son’s basketball game one afternoon, I recalled a conversation with my mother who had recently remarked, “I’ve been wearing brighter colors these days.” Curiosity piqued, I asked her about this change. Long accustomed to her neutral palette, I was surprised to find her closet transformed into a display of vibrant colors. “I just thought it would be nice to spice things up,” she explained, having embraced new adventures such as hiking and road trips, activities I had never associated with her.
Later that evening, I stood in my own closet, surrounded by a sea of neutral tones, questioning where the adventurous spirit of my youth had disappeared. More than two decades later, I realized that I had spent my thirties justifying why I shouldn’t try new things rather than contemplating how I could.
Determined to rekindle my connection with color, I seized an opportunity to visit the mall, returning home with a cabernet blouse, purple running shorts, and an emerald cardigan—each item a step towards reclaiming my vibrancy (not to be worn together, of course). The day I donned the cardigan, a friend complimented me, and my husband echoed the sentiment later that evening, remarking on how great the green looked on me. It made me ponder if it was the color itself or the feelings it evoked within me.
A few months after my color revival, I encountered a priest who offered a refreshing perspective on Christmas. He emphasized that birthdays are celebrations of the years one has illuminated the world. This reflection prompted me to consider whether aging had to be synonymous with fading—whether we could keep our inner light shining through active choices.
Four years have passed since that pivotal day in the café, and my life has undergone significant transformation. I pursued graduate studies, participated in a memorable volunteer trip to Peru with my family, and even resumed dancing with friends. Through this journey, I’ve learned that being more mindful of my wardrobe choices, even when opting for black, encourages me to embrace possibilities.
Green has emerged as my new favorite color. I proudly wore it during my first half-marathon, a challenge that symbolized resilience and the message I wished to convey to my sons: life offers various seasons to flourish.
In summary, the shift in my wardrobe reflects a broader journey of self-discovery, highlighting the importance of color in our lives as a means of expressing our evolving identities. Embracing the vibrancy of life can serve as a reminder that, regardless of age, we can continue to illuminate our paths through intentional choices.
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