The depression edit
How to dress for how you *want* to feel, not how you *actually* feel
“I love your dress — you look like a literal ray of sunshine today!”
I smile at my coworker from my desk. I’m wearing a bright, orange-red Marimekko maxi covered in a colorful geometric pattern. I’d bought it for myself way back in March when the weather was gray and my mood was biblical. We’d recently gotten our diagnosis, and I couldn’t imagine ever wanting to get out of bed again. So I splurged on this vintage piece in the hopes that I’d eventually have someplace sunny to wear it. Instead, I pulled it on the morning after one of my many doctor’s appointments. I needed the contact high the sturdy cotton fabric would provide.
The way my premature ovarian failure is manifesting is actually, somewhat hilariously, represented perfectly in season two of Sex and the City. Miranda goes into her OBGYN who tells her that her right ovary has stopped producing eggs. (“Is it possible it’s just on strike?”) They call it a lazy ovary. The only difference for me is that my left ovary is the one that is lazy — or “offline” as I recently realized I’ve taken to describing it. The week before I reached for my Marimekko armor, however, I’d gone to an appointment where my doctor said he thought he’d seen a follicle developing on my left ovary as well as my right.
I was over the moon. I called Ben as soon as I got in the elevator and then cried in voice notes to friends. I skipped down the street for the next week thinking that this was it — all the acupuncture, and the supplements, and the energy healing, and meditation were finally working. I’d hacked my way out of biological underachievement. But by my next monitoring appointment, whatever my doctor had seen going on in my ultrasound had disappeared. My left side was quiet again, and I was absolutely devastated.
To cope with her lazy ovary, Miranda goes out with a man with bag hair plugs. I’m married to a man who has embraced not having hair, so I do the next best thing — cope by dressing completely opposite to how I am feeling.
To say I’ve been wrecked for the past month would be an understatement. My mood swings, I go from hopeful to hopeless, and I’ve run out of ways to respond to the question “how are you doing?” (But please, for the love of god, don’t stop asking me.) If I could choose to never leave my bed until I was finally knocked up, I’d happily do just that. But I need to go to work, and see my friends and family, and generally be a human in the world. And that requires getting dressed.
I call this corner of my closet The Depression Edit. They’re the pieces I’ve been gravitating toward when I’m feeling my lowest, and I’ve realized they have a lot of things in common. They’re mostly vintage, usually colorful, and always incorporate some pop of color. And here’s the most important thing: They’re usually bold enough to elicit some type of reaction. I know, I know — this seems completely counter-intuitive. But in a weird way, the positive affirmations serve as a kind of balm for me. They’re my way of stealing a little bit of external positivity and filing it away for later. Because even if I can’t make a baby right now, I can still look cute. And that means I’m doing something well.
Call it clothing karma, call it crazy, call it whatever. But if I have to get out of bed, I’m at least going to trick myself into feeling good by dressing cute.
Below are a few pieces I’ve been wearing to do just that.
The vintage Marimekko dress in question. I love the colors of this dress so much — putting it on feels as close to a shot of happiness as I can imagine. I bought this from Female Hysteria Vintage, and they carry an incredible amount of vintage Marimekko. I’ll be adding to my collection from there again soon.
White-on-white is as good as a rainbow dress in my mind, and an embroidered top with little flowers is an instant mood boost.
Do I feel like a big baby in this jumpsuit? Yes. Do I need that sometimes? Also yes.
I like to distract with clashing, busy patterns. The stained glass design on the pants is close to the one on this blouse.
This is an example of something I’d wear when working from home — I want to dress in something isn’t just the same gray sweatpants day after day. So pink, elastic-waist pants paired with a pistachio top it is.
Another Marimekko buy. Technically I think this is a top, and I’ll sometimes wear it with flowy, linen pants. But when it’s really warm I’ll just wear it as a dress.
Another work-from-home outfit. This one makes me feel especially special, because it’s what I wore to our wedding breakfast.
This is actually an old, linen jumpsuit from Everlane I’ve had for years. I snipped the belt loops off and just wear it oversized. I bought this hat at a rummage shop in Maine on our honeymoon — it’s perfect for walks in the morning.