Last summer, my sister and niece accompanied me on a business day trip. My niece, MJ, had just turned four and was especially well-behaved on the trip. So, before heading home, we stopped at the mall and I let her build a bear. After trying on every outfit in the store, filling out a birth certificate, and all of the other things that come along with stuffed animal adoption these days, we were given a series of instructions for bear care. Particularly that we were to return to the nearest store should the need for medical attention ever arise.
Not long ago, Mrs. Jo Jo Bear developed a stuffing hernia. So, I loaded her, my sister and MJ up in the car and headed to the skilled bear surgeons at Park Plaza.
The operation was a complete success but, of course, the best medicine for a wounded animal and a worried owner is if the aunt buys a new outfit for the bear. Once again, MJ carefully scrutinized every item in the store. Who would Mrs. Jo Jo Bear be today? A fairy princess? A “Star Wars” character? A Marine? In the end, MJ selected a Harley Davidson t-shirt, jeans and a pair of black boots, a nod to a dear friend of ours who rides a motorcycle.
It was then that I found myself slightly envious of the bear. Not because she was now a stylish biker chick; I’m actually terrified of motorcycles. But because she really can be anything she and MJ want on any given day. If only being a human were as uncomplicated.
As I paid for Mrs. Jo Jo Bear’s new outfit, I contemplated my own style. While my sister and MJ hit up the food court, I meandered around the mall, wondering who I’d be today. Or any day.
You see, last summer, I found myself single for the first time in over a decade. The transition was generally smooth, but my wardrobe took quite a hit. I tend to “clothes associate” and tie memories strongly to what I was wearing at the time. So, a new start definitely required some new clothes. I’ve added pieces here and there, but it’s been a bit of a process. Each time I try on something, I wonder what it says about me. What memories will I make while wearing it? Is this who I want to be?
Do my Zooey Deschanel-esque bangs qualify me to wear sweaters with bold words on them from Forever 21? Does the title I carry at work mean I should whip out my Ann Taylor card? Can I resist purchasing another pair of Gap yoga pants? You know, in case the multiple pairs I already have aren’t enough. Will I ever care about Victoria’s Secret again? What style says “I mostly have it all together even though I’m 34 and live with my parents”?
Am I really wandering around the mall, having an existential crisis, because a stuffed bear is more stylish than me?
As I made my way back to my family, I also made peace with the fact that I may never know exactly what to wear or what it says about me. And I’m okay with that. I do know who I am: a Christian, a young-ish professional, a pretty fun aunt, a friend, a person at an unexpected but not unpleasant crossroad who really does mostly have it together. Even if that involves wearing hoodies repping various sports teams a little more often than it should. Turns out the mall wasn’t only healing for Mrs. Jo Jo Bear.