is this too much?


I feel most comfortable in pieces that swallow me whole. I like when my body can move freely inside garments, free to gesticulate enthusiastically without fear of being “too much.”

I am always worried about being “too much.” I carry with me too much emotion. When I am happy, joy spreads throughout my entire body coaxing me to dance in inappropriate places. When I am sad, sorrow gulps me down into a pit of exhaustion, leaving me clawing my way back up in a very visible way. I am all or nothing. Some might consider it “too much.”

I worry my laugh is too loud, my stories too vulnerable, my embrace too intimate, my insides too much on the outside. But my clothes, the way I dress, is never enough. Though I feel self-conscious about the way my feelings fall outside my heart, my lipstick is never too bright and my clothes never too loud.

I wonder how that works. I had a rough go at finding a wedding dress, but ended up finding one that was very much my taste. (More on that post wedding.) But when I was scouring for a rehearsal dinner outfit, I wanted something that was me in every way. I didn’t want fussy or frilly. I did want some sort of Ode to Halloween.

I happened upon a local designer (Ilana Kohn) and her perfect structured jumpsuits designed for the workin' girl. It covers every inch of me from my neck to ankles and could double as a work suit. It’s baggy and has huge pockets. It’s all black and doesn’t even hint that I have a body.  And it’s entirely too much.

A quick history of me dressing too much:
February 2016
October 2014
November 2013
April 2013