My two dogs become agitated and start barking when I open my underwear drawer to put on a bra. Experience tells them they are being left. Whether it be for 30 minutes or 30 hours, my bra and any other binding clothing are discarded the minute I walk into my sanctuary of a home. I value comfort over many other states of being. Now mind you, I probably end up changing clothes five times a day. My multiple clothing changes correlate with the many hats I wear- I’m a focus group facilitator in my family’s small business; I’m program director for an arts enrichment program for at risk middle schoolers; I’m a writer and clay illustrator; and partner in my Be Brave. Lose the Beige business. Given the varied responsibilities of these endeavors, the result is a lot of wardrobe changes. My desire for comfort trumps the inconvenience of unbuttoning and refastening.
Late one evening not long ago I bumped into a friend in a 24 hour drug store. She was wearing a dress (the professional looking kind not the housecoat throw-on kind). It became evident (after a few nosey questions) it is her M.O. to get dressed just once a day. She stays in her a.m. clothes until she readies for bed. She is the kind of neighbor who looks wonderful even at unannounced drop-ins at her house, make up and all. (I actually have a lot of neighbors like that so I suspect I’m in the minority on this issue.) I’m like a four year old scrubbing lipstick residue off the minute I hit my front door.
Nevertheless, I still choose my way, neighbors or not. I value every moment of the day. Any way I can enrich these moments of mine, I will. And my physical comfort nurtures my psychic comfort.