Last week I finally gave up and hooked up the cable box and the TV. I still have a lot of other equipment that's lying in the bottom of the entertainment center with its loose wires waving pathetically in the air, but at least I'm no longer cut off from TCM, Masterpiece Mystery, and my guilty pleasures, What Not to Wear and How Do I Look? If you've never seen either show, their premise is that some hopelessly unfashionable (usually female) person is ambushed and made over by professional stylists.
Although I suppose I'd be mortified if my friends and family actually turned me in to the fashion police, I can't help fantasizing about someone offering me a free trip to New York or LA, a new wardrobe, and a fabulous makeover; I think I could manage to overcome the initial embarrassment after receiving The Full Treatment. Well, maybe I'd be scarred for life by the sight of my rear end in the 360 degree mirror, but at least I'd emerge from the experience with better camouflage for all my lumps and bumps.
Since I'm unlikely to be rescued from fashion failure by Stacy and Clinton or Jeannie Mai in the flesh, I do try to benefit from their electronically delivered advice. Over the past few years I've stopped wearing baggy giveaway T-shirts unless I'm refinishing furniture or painting walls. Since I can't find pants that fit off the rack, I found a tailor who can alter them appropriately. I've even made my makeup brighter to counteract my fading tan. I still need a personal visit from Ted Gibson to magically improve my hair, but maybe if I keep watching the shows I will eventually see a style that's right for me and that a local stylist can replicate.
I must admit, though, that I don't want to invest too much money in a new and improved look. If I manage to lift my look completely out of schlumpiness all by myself, I'll never get that professional fashion ambush.
"The finest clothing made is a person's skin, but, of course, society demands something more than this." ~Mark Twain
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