I’ve been hiding from you, fashion.

I stopped working in the industry and subconsciously started boycotting you, fashion.

While fashion is fleeting and no place to find identity (1 Peter 3:3-4), it’s fun. I’ve always believed in fashion as an art form and I’ve always seen personal style as self-expression; so, for the sake of expression, I want my personal style back. Here’s the truth about this minimalist style I’ve adopted in the past year or so: I didn’t grow to suddenly hate the art and adventure that is fashion—it’s attention that I have a problem with. But now spring is here, and with every step out into the heat and step into my closet, I realize my clothes are wrong…all wrong.

It’s time to dust off and break out the heels that take up over half of my closet.

I’m going to stop shying away from the brights and whites I used to love.

I need to snatch up pieces that feel special instead of leaving them in the store. Details aren’t the devil. When and why did I forget this?

I’ll blast the comfort zone into itty bitty pieces.

I’m overhauling anything and everything that makes me feel like dry toast.

Injecting some serious color, I plan to swap some of this black for shades I love but have been neglecting, like my sassy fuchsia and fun chartreuse.

I commit to print, starting with the attention-grabbing (ugh, attention) pieces on my wishlists.

I’ll re-introduce variation. It’s not like I don’t know how to style one piece one million ways.

A touch more attitude is needed. This is important.

My personal style won’t change, it will re-emerge. Not dressier, but happier.

I’m in the mood to come out of hiding to look like myself again and also to try new things, so I’ve got to ride this wave. In the words of Allison from Man Repeller, “The thing about presenting your truest personality through fashion is that first it must be firmly defined. Personalties evolve and grow, and your closet needs time to digest that.”

Finally, I’ll step proudly into the world and not accept criticism of mixed prints and block heels from folks who have no style or sense of fashion. Which is fine, since clothes don’t make the man and mean absolutely nothing in this life or the next, but opinions are like—nevermind.

Honorable mention: I’ll finally find that perfect pair of pink heels I’ve been searching for for two years. If anyone wants to help, they must be a bright baby pink, pointed toe, and 4 inches tall. Not three, not five—four.

Photo: Designlovefest