4 minute read

Ann’s Fashion Fortunes

from Mankato Magazine

by Free Press Media

from Mankato Magazine, page 52

Lit Du Nord: Minnesota Books a...

By Ann Rosenquist Fee

Transcending rollers, pants, parenthood

DEAR ANN: I just discovered Kitsch Satin Heatless Curling Set, which is essentially one long bendy roller you twist around your hair and wear to bed and then wake up with really great curls. I found it because I was searching for alternatives to hot rollers to create an early 1980s look for a show I was in this past summer. The show is over but I loved those curls. My question is, can I use the Kitsch Satin Heatless Curling Set non-ironically? DEAR READER: Listen, there’s nothing ironic about embracing the latest version of things-worn-to-bedto-create-hair-shapes-different-thanyour-natural-look.

It’s a timeless practice that dates back to the birth of vanity itself. Go ahead and look up any version of the Narcissus myth and you’ll see he’s got something like finger waves, probably achieved with some overnight combo of twigs and sap and salt water, which, fast forward to now, it’s pretty much the same thing as that Kitsch set plus keratin serum plus sea salt spray.

Go ahead and get excitedly habitual with your Kitsch, and enjoy your head’s new silhouette, no irony about it.

DEAR ANN: This fall I decided against losing the 10 pounds I’ve spent my whole adult life losing and regaining. It’s not that I can’t or that I don’t know how. It’s that I’m bored with the cycle. I may have been influenced by how Victoria’s Secret recently went wild with body-positive size inclusivity and genderlessness, because if that bastion of hourglass silhouettes with zero body fat can do it, can’t I? Shouldn’t I? The question on my mind is what to do with the clothes I’ve traditionally reserved for my leaner times. Please help. DEAR READER: The only answer is to violently destroy those clothes, and turn the pieces into something new and sizeless.

If you sew, and you’re feeling ambitious, you can make tote bags. Or you could make some simpler no-handle bags, in which to slip gifts when it’s gift-giving time, kind of like pillowcases but in random sizes, and you’ll probably like the bags so much that you’ll go out and find gifts that fit instead of the other way around.

If you don’t sew, you could shred the pants into strips and tie them onto key rings, and give them away to friends who appreciate all that’s involved in busting out of vicious cycles. Or you could go superbasic and make rags.

Whatever you do, it’s important to do by hand so that you fully appreciate the joy of engaging in creative destruction. Happy shredding.

DEAR ANN: Someone recently told me I dress like a 14-year-old trying to avoid attention. They were right. Whenever I put on an oversized T-shirt of my husband’s plus leggings plus running shoes, which is often, I lie to myself and say, “This is a carefree casual look I’m doing.” Then, once I’m out in public, I feel chaotic and bland, and I think, my God, I am a confident woman, why do I insist on dressing like the worst version of my high school freshman self? Even more mysteriously, why does that feel so right when I’m getting dressed at home, yet so instantly and drastically wrong once I’m out in the world? DEAR READER: You’ve got a good start on an answer, in pointing out the abrupt shift between how that getup feels at home versus how it feels in public. You didn’t mention kids, but I’ll venture a guess that you’ve got some, and I’ll just go ahead and say this so you don’t have to — this is their fault.

Motherhood is an exercise in

perpetually de-centering yourself, and when you’re waking up in the morning with that as your prime directive, you get dressed as hastily and thoughtlessly as possible.

Of course that feels wrong once you’re out and about with adult humans who are your peers, not your dependents.

Figure out a way to feel connected to the outside grownup world while you’re getting dressed. An occasional glance in the mirror might help, or perhaps set up a buddy system so you can reach out by phone or video to a friend.

It doesn’t need to be a particularly stylish friend, because honestly you’re in no shape to handle that kind of pressure. Just find a buddy whose voice reminds you that you have connections and purposes that transcend parenthood, and that you’re worthy and deserving of actual pants.

Got a question? Submit it at annrosenquistfee.com (click on Ann’s Fashion Fortunes). Ann Rosenquist Fee is executive director of the Arts Center of Saint Peter and host of Live from the Arts Center, a music and interview show Thursdays 1-2 p.m. on KMSU 89.7FM.