My six year old daughter says to me, "Mommy, you dress blah."
So that's what it has come down to. An 49 year old who dresses "blah." Something has got to give, and that something is me.
This is the year I've gone bling. I've discovered, too, that bling is a good thing. It does seem to give me a psychological lift to see myself in the mirror with a sparkle here and a glittery something there. Mind you, my bling is tame compared to a lot of women...but I've added a sequined t-shirt, a costume ring, a few necklaces, and a somewhat expensive purse to my collection. Actually, when I came home with the new sequined t-shirt, my daughter exclaimed with glee, "Finally, you're thinking like me!"
Bling on a little girl is very different than bling on a mature woman. (That is what I'm considered, isn't it? Mature? Oh well, it is not for me to decide that one.) Little girls look cute in EVERYTHING; I look good in only a handful of things. Clothes glide on my daughter's thin, straight as a stick frame. Clothes on me, however, have a few bumps to navigate over...um, you get the picture.
The bottom line is that when we think about bling, we are really talking about the fairy tale factor. Reality can be harsh. Wrinkles set in. Various body parts sag. Bling is a subtle camouflage for life's flaws. Light and bright cheers us up and deflects small inadequacies. Bring on the fairy dust!
I don't think women ever outgrow our need for fairy tale. My daughter and I are addicted to the TV show "Say Yes to the Dress" on TLC, which is about women selecting their wedding dresses. Nine out of ten women on the show want to feel like a "princess". They want fairy tale and fantasy. On the other end of the spectrum, I have seen cases where a daughter wanted a simple dress, and butted heads with her mother who wanted more sparkle for her little girl grown up.
It is not that I have ever been anti-bling, it is just that for most of my life, I have preferred simple, comfortable clothes with one or two select pieces of understated jewelry. Adding a little oomph to my wardrobe is certainly a conscious decision. As a young girl I wore only t-shirts and jeans. My mother, who worked at Tiffany's jewelry store, was surrounded by Beverly Hills bling all day long, and dressed to the nines every day. She tried to take me shopping in Beverly Hills, tried to get me to wear snazzier outfits, but I always resisted (stupid, stupid me!). I preferred my somewhat sloppy ways instead. I was a teenager, what did I know? It is ironic, then, that now my daughter is taking over where my late mother left off. Bling must be in the genes.
To bling or not to bling, that is the question...isn't that what Shakespeare had in mind when he wrote Hamlet's famous soliloquy? Whatever. Excuse me now, because I'm going to string cute white lights on my porch overhang, because it's looking a tad frumpy out there and I've decided even my backyard needs some, you guessed it, bling.
