Journal 2016

I have been rebelling against fashion since I was in junior high boarding school. While girls were begging to wear shorter skirts, I insisted on lowering my hems. One day in home economics class we learned what colors supposedly looked good together. Apparently orange and pink was a no-no (this was before the crazy ’70s entered the scene). One of my classmates dared me to put together a clashing skirt/blouse combo and wear it to breakfast that morning. I felt proud that I had enough guts to go against established rules of fashion and confident enough in who I was to pull off the faux pas.

But, to my chagrin, one of the Aunties pulled me aside to inform me that my wardrobe choice was a less than desirable combination of colors.

“How could she think so little of me?” I thought indignantly. Even when I told her that I wasn’t ignorant, that it was done on a dare, the damage in my soul was done. I felt embarrassed where before I felt confident.

I take this emotion to Jesus, and He smiles.

“Why are You smiling?” I ask.

“I love that you have self-confidence to be who you are. Never mind the Auntie. She didn’t know. She was simply trying to be helpful. Wear whatever you choose—with confidence.”

I wish I’d known this the year we were on furlough for my junior year of high school. Someone kindly donated their rejects to the poor missionary barrel, and I ignorantly donned a dress that apparently was out of style. One ill comment, and I never wore it again.

What I choose to wear reflects who I am, and to which master I serve. I want to be confident in who God made me to be.

A 2024 Update. Admittedly, I still have poor fashion sense and find it helpful to take a daughter along with me to shop for clothes—though I maintain the power of veto. I tend to follow my mother’s advice: wear only what’s comfortable.