Leigh Kramer

I'm a Pixie

This is what happens when I'm making a Big Decision or contemplating a Major Change.

A seed of an idea presents itself. "No, no, I couldn't do that."

"Hmm. Well, maybe I could do that. But not now. Later. Much, much later."

"Except...it would be kind of awesome." I start visualizing the potential change and imagining all kinds of wonderful scenarios. (Being a novelist and book nerd can get me into trouble.)

"OK, no, definitely not doing that. I don't have the guts!" I start working through all the reasons why it won't work.

"Not true. I do have guts. And I kind of want to do it but..."

To my inner circle: "So I've been thinking about maybe kind of..." This generally elicits much enthusiasm and affirmation because I've already run it through every angle.

Ponder, ponder, ponder. Think, think, think.

At last, the decision clicks into place. "Holy buckets! I'm going to do it!" Then it's full steam ahead, no turning back.

This process takes months, if not years. Y'all don't even want to know the things I'm contemplating right now. Let's just say change is afoot.

In the last several months, a few different friends told me I'd look great with a pixie cut. Given how attached I am to my long hair, I'd laugh nervously and mutter about how I've tried the short hair thing and it's not for me.

It's easy to let hair define me. To say I feel more myself with long hair. I've wondered though, whether my long hair was another way of hiding.

This past month I started thinking losing a few inches of hair, adding some layers, and going for a sassier vibe. I was due for a haircut this month but wasn't ready for any major changes.

Maybe I'd work my way up to the pixie cut eventually.

Then my inner circle brought up Beyonce's short haircut on Thursday and I threw out the idea of lopping off my own long locks. Could I pull it off? They pounced and ran with it, telling me I'd look amazing and discussing possible styles. While a few counseled me to be really, really sure I wanted to do it, others began chanting "PIXIE CUT!"

Moment of reckoning: it was time for me to boldly and confidently become a pixie.

Photo source

I looked at pictures of pixie cuts for inspiration. Ginnifer Goodwin's look has long been a favorite.

I messaged my stylist Michelle Loomis and told her my scheme. She was instantly on board. We went back and forth on whether I would go for a gateway haircut to ease my way into a pixie. I wanted to go all the way but I had no idea what I would decide until I sat in her chair.

Let me remind you: while I'd loosely contemplated a pixie cut for months, this all went down Thursday. Saturday morning I met up with a friend at the farmers market and then made my way over to Synergy where Michelle awaited.

As we talked about haircut options, resolve and clarity emerged. Whether motivated by bravery or hair boredom, I was going for it.

While I've regularly grown my hair out only to chop it off (as recently as spring 2010), I'd never tried a pixie cut before. I didn't want another short bob. I didn't want a gateway haircut, especially when cutting it all off meant a hair donation to Pantene Beautiful Lengths.

It was time for a change. Time to let go of the old and welcome the new.

I've been thinking about this Jesus Year of mine. My birthday in January seemed so full of possibility and yet I was met with personal setbacks until I went to Uganda and Burundi. That trip felt like an awakening and in so many ways, I am myself again. Myself but renewed and energized and ready for what's next.

There's no better way to mark this change than by letting go.

Michelle sectioned off my hair into rubber bands so it would be donation ready. Then she cut them off. I couldn't stop laughing. There was no turning back, nor did I want to.

This is the new me. I'm marking a new season.

  Ta da!

  Suddenly feeling the need for a neck tattoo

10 inches of hair lighter = FREEDOM

Today, with my pixie cut in place, I have no regrets. I feel amazing and free and sassy as all get out.

I can't believe I did it.

I LOVE IT!!!

Watch out, world. It's about to get interesting.

My Shopping Secret

I'm going to let you in on a secret: I dress up when I go shopping.

Clothes shopping, to be specific.

Yes, Target and Publix get me in my regular day-to-day attire but I make an extra effort if I'm mall-bound. I have even been known to wear (comfortable) heels.

I realize it may sound silly. Who dresses up to go shopping? Me. I do. And I have my reasons.

 

I'm giddy to be guest posting for my friend Dear Abby Leigh today. Head on over to read the rest of my Dress For The Day confession and learn all about my new obsession (Popbasic = !!!!).

Are You Hiding Behind Those Layers?

After the second person told me I could pass for a college student this past fall, I decided enough was enough. I may be the only woman who feels this way but I want to look my age or at least close to it. Hearing I could pass for a decade younger was not music to my ears whatsoever.

I'm the person who's happy when she's not carded at happy hour.

Am I in my 30s or a college student? I don't know! Oh wait. The 3rd picture is from my 10 year high school reunion. There's that.

No matter how I wear my hair (short hair, long, bangs), whether I wear contacts or glasses, wear minimal makeup or full face (which rarely happens), some people think I look around my age while an equal amount peg me for much younger. This has gone on my entire life.

I suppose now that I'm in my 30s it shouldn't bother me so much. But it does. This may be the fruit of everyone telling subversive me, "some day you'll appreciate it." OH NO I WON'T.

I decided to put in a call for help to my friend Megan of Fried Okra, who happens to do styling on the side.

"When I'm home for Christmas, can you give me tips on what to wear so I'll look my age?"

After she stopped laughing over my predicament, she graciously agreed to help me out because she's awesome. I joined her family for their traditional Southern New Year's Day meal. Afterward we headed to the computer to look at various stores' sites and discuss what I did and did not like.

We talked about flattering colors, the style of jeans I typically wear, and the functionality of my current wardrobe.

Me and my layers and the perfectly magnificent Megan

Then, the moment of truth. She had me take off the scarf wrapped around my neck and remove the extra cardigan I'd thrown on to fight the winter chill. She needed to get a good look at my body. There was a lot of bulk getting in the way.

I felt vulnerable without my layers. I sucked in my stomach, though it wasn't visible through the shirt and cardigan I still had on. My friend did what I asked of her. She offered me an honest and true assessment.

"You're cute but you want to look womanly. All that fabric gets in the way of your curves." As she spoke, the lightbulb went on. She was right. I hadn't realized my penchant for boho chic had evolved into something less certain.

I've always been drawn to hippie-inspired clothes and boho chic is a great spin on that. Somewhere along the way my love of layers had morphed into hiding. Did I not want to be seen?

Every woman can point to a body part she doesn't entirely love. I emphasize what I like and downplay what I don't. I'm self-conscious about my stomach but I love my legs and my decolletage. I rock dresses and heels on a regular basis but my day to day wardrobe tends to be very fabric-y and layer-y. I never thought I needed to hide behind my clothes. It's weeks later and I'm still wondering what changed.

As to the rest, Megan empowered me. She gave me good tips I can incorporate into my existing wardrobe and I also have a better sense of what I need.

Megan suggested I buy straight leg jeans (think Matchstick) instead of skinnies or bootcut. She encouraged me to wear a heel whenever I can do it comfortably. (Read: not at work.) She told me not to wear more than one loose, flowy piece per outfit. No more puddles of fabric.

We talked about structured pieces and looked at various blazers and shirts. Some of this I already knew but hadn't conscientiously been looking for. It helped to have visual examples for the rest.

Megan's tips worked. A few days later a friend and I spontaneously hit up White House Black Market to find a blazer. I settled on a velvet number with great structure and military details. I could still wear a drapey piece underneath, without losing any definition.

Hello, waist!

I don't know where I went off-course but I feel confident and strong again. I'm going to experiment with clothes, make the most of my womanly curves, and commit to myself in 2013.

 

  

What's your best style tip? And for serious, what lipstick might you recommend? Lipstick is my nemesis and all I want to do is find a good one.

Red for the New Year

I started work earlier than usual on my birthday, which required waking at 6:15 am. On my birthday. But hey! It was my birthday. Everything was sprinkled with a glowy, sparkly haze. When I checked my phone, there was already a text and more than the usual amount of emails, Facebook notifications, and tweets. I smiled in spite of my fog-covered brain and then went about getting ready.

For the rest of the day, friends (and in one cute case, toddlers) serenaded me, wrote birthday poems, and generally wished me well. Birthdays are the one time of year I want All The Attention and my friends and family did an excellent job of making sure I felt loved.

Even the weather cooperated. For the second year in a row, we had weather in the 60s. There was some rain during the day but I'll take that over snow.

I ended up getting to leave work early so I headed home to freshen up for the evening. I enjoyed a glass of red wine and talked to my parents on the phone. Before I knew it, my best friend came to pick me up and off we went to the restaurant.

Fried avocado makes me happy.

Mexican food is one of my love languages. We ate at Rosepepper Cantina, my first time there though I've been wanting to go for ages. (It's worth noting my favorite Mexican place closed a year ago and I hadn't yet found a proper replacement. Rosepepper is a contender for the green salsa alone. Mercy.)

A couple of friends bowed out due to illness but otherwise I was surrounded by some of my very favorite people. To look around the table and see my friends talking to each other, some of whom hadn't met prior to that night, filled my heart to bursting. My community has further to go but the table evidenced how blessed I already am. I would be lost without the women there. And while I could have invited any number of other friends, I wanted my birthday celebration to be about the ones who have most encouraged, carried, challenged, and inspired me.

We drank, ate, and were generally merry. There was discussion of Africa and blogging boundaries and Christmas vacations and work and birthday goals and any number of other topics.

After dinner, we headed across the street to Jeni's Ice Cream where, I kid you not, the server gave me free ice cream upon learning it was my birthday. Heck yes, 33!

I glowed all day. I basked in the attention and the words of affirmation. I soaked up prophetic words friends spoke over me. But to go beyond all that, good things are ahead this year. There is something about this year and what God has in store for me. A sense of freedom and possibility guides my days. What might it be? Where will the year take me? I don't know for sure but I'm excited nonetheless.

Here's to change, both big and small. Here's to red birthday shirts with cherry blossoms, often a symbol of good fortune and love and affection. Here's to buying red in the first place, a rarely worn color that now calls to me. Here's to lessons learned and friends cherished. Here's to 33.

 

red shirt, Lithe (purchased at The Swap Shop, a high-end consignment shop in Glen Ellyn, IL)

t-shirt, Gap

cardigan, LOFT

jeans, Gap

leaf necklace, gift

earrings, Etsy

flats, Target

 

Linking up with Dear Abby Leigh for Dress for the Day

Skinny Jeans, Top Knots, and Me

My sense of style was not immediately apparent. In 5th grade, I grabbed the first pair of socks out of the drawer with no thought as to whether it matched my outfit. I didn't even realize I should think about such a thing. My eyes slowly opened up to fashion and trends. From my classmates, I learned socks should match each other and coordinate with clothing.

By 6th grade, I was tight rolling my jeans with the best of them. Not only did my socks match, my friends and I would often wear two pairs of different colored socks at a time. The original colorblocking. I rocked a perm and my bangs reached awesome heights.

Freshman year of high school, I fully embraced the grunge look, borrowing my dad's flannel shirts and buying bigger sized jeans from thrift stores to complete the look. This segued into a hippie phase. By junior year of high school, my look was a mix of preppie and hippie.

In college, my mom referred to my style as retro eclectic. And now I'd say my style veers toward bohemian chic with a good dose of classic.

I know what I like. I know what looks good on me. (For the most part.)

On the other hand, sometimes I'll see a trend and think, "so cute! I couldn't pull that off."

And then I'll see it again and have the same thought. Rise and repeat a few more times. Then I start thinking, "hmmm. What if?"

I'd become locked into "my" style, it was hard to work around it or even see the need to but variety is the spice of life. Last year I challenged myself to try a few trends. Some worked, some didn't. Either way, I'm better for it.

I finally found skinny jeans that not only fit but felt comfortable.

I rocked a top knot. (The first time feeling ever so self-conscious. It's now my go-to look for special occasions.)

I branched out with nail polish colors, swapping out the usual dark tones for some summer fun. Klout Perks sent me a hot pink shade from Essie. I rarely wear pink. It doesn't feel like me, to my mom's great sadness. But I resolved to try even the things I regularly disdain. The color shocked me every time I glanced down at my feet. This, I gave away to a friend who adores all forms of pink.

My friends' toes boasted blues, greens, yellows, and more over the summer. I decided to try Sinful Colors Mint Apple and it became my shade for the rest of those hot months. It was fun. It was me. I just hadn't realized it before.

Certain looks are "me." Certain looks aren't "me."

I've developed my uniform. Oh, it's a nice uniform. There's a mix of colors and patterns, jeans and dresses. I'll put unlikely combinations together to see if they work- and they often do. But I see a subtle pattern. I unintentionally limit myself, sometimes by the way I want people to view me and sometimes by the way I want to view myself.

This isn't to say I don't love what I wear or I'm masquerading as someone I'm not. And I'm certainly not suggesting we should try all trends. Yikes.

By designating certain styles and looks as "not me," I've missed out on the fun of experimentation. Because will people think I'm a fraud or dismiss me? I listen to the little fears whispering about what people will think if I wear that or do my hair like this. There's enough leeway in the boho chic aesthetic, I hadn't realized how risk-averse I'd become.

When you only see yourself a certain way, you lose sight of the many facets of who you are. Most people are not just one style, one character trait, one layer. We are rich, multi-dimensional, full of strengths and weaknesses, packed full of possibilities.

I'm letting myself shine one day at a time. And in some cases, one outfit at a time.

  

Do you take fashion risks? What was your favorite past trend?