For some reason, it’s always the extra-large, salmon-colored, v-neck sweater from my dad’s closet that stands out the most. Adolescent me was known to raid the wardrobes of everyone in the household in my crazed attempt to put together a new outfit for school.

Desperate times called for desperate sweaters.

I’d been buying most of my own clothes since I was about twelve years old, at which point I begin raking in the cash from all those $2.50 an hour babysitting gigs. My teenage years — the stage that a girl really, really cares about her image — were rather lean for my family. My dad was a church-planting pastor in the midwest and my mom stayed at home with us until the youngest of us four kids started school, at which point she went back to work as a teacher.

We were not in any way poor; we simply didn’t have much “extra.” Don’t for a moment feel sorry for me. I honestly couldn’t be more grateful. Those years wove themselves into the person I am — resourceful, creative, and spurred on by scarcity rather than shut down by it. Besides, we were rich in all the ways that really mattered.

I may have been shy, insecure, and embarrassingly small for my age but my love of beauty — pretty things, lovely clothes, beautiful colors — was larger than life. My family will tell you it’s just how I’m wired. I started playing dress-up as a toddler and I’ve never really stopped.

Fashion Note #1: Scarves are an easy & timeless accessory. Also? One should always dress for success, even if you’re just playing Lucy to your Charlie Brown brother.

Fashion Note #2: A deflated rubber ball can work as a stylish cap. And it points attention away from the fact that your well-intentioned mom gave you a boy haircut.

Young Marian studied and memorized everything like it was her job — from the outfits the twenty-something ladies wore to church with their perfectly matched pumps and endless array of twist-a-beads, to what the fashionable girls wore to school and the back-to-school editions of Seventeen magazine. I saved up my hard-earned dollars for Benetton tees, the tiniest Coach purse they sold, and a Liz Claiborne wallet.

When you’re that age, you simply want to fit in and while I could never really do that — at least in my estimation of things — I resolved to die trying.

Which is why I’d end up in my dad’s closet snatching a very large man’s sweater off the hanger and draping it over my petite frame, grabbing the paisley silk scarf from my mom’s dress coat and tying it around my waist as a belt, and slipping on my Target flats with the Liz Claiborne labels I’d carefully adhered to the insoles.

Wait, what was that you just wrote Marian? Are you telling the world you put designer stickers in your Target shoes?

Yes, that’s exactly what I’m telling you. I created my own knock-off. Talk about shopping the house. And really, I can’t believe I’ve never told you this because it’s totally one of my best stories ever. So go grab a cup of coffee and settle in.

Fashion Note #3: When choosing contrasting colors, go with the same level of boldness for all the hues. In the words of Clinton & Stacy, “It doesn’t have to match. It just has to go.” And in the words of 5-year-old me, “You are the boss of your outfits & accessories.”

The Story That Beats All

I was probably in seventh or eighth grade and we had a Target in our city. Now this was decades before Target was the awesomeness that it is now, decades before famous designers were lining up to create their own limited lines for the shopping proletariat. Those early Targets were scarce, uncool, and suffered from bad lighting.

Remember, this was the 80s, when department stores ruled the day and you were nobody without Guess jeans and tiny embroidered alligators or polo players on your collared shirts.

Somehow I’d discovered Target and felt that if you looked with a squinty, objective eye, some of their stuff could qualify as legit. So I bought a pair of woven leather, cream colored, pointy-toed loafers from the Target shoe department. Y’all they were so cute. I wish I still had them.

There was only one problem. They were from Target. And this mattered because all the girls in class would flip their flats on and off their heels while their legs were crossed and then everyone knew what designer shoes you were wearing. Or not wearing.

So I did what any resourceful, image-obsessed girl would do. I raided my mother’s closet and found her gorgeous, burgundy Liz Claiborne pumps, the one splurge my darling mom had probably enjoyed in years. And which the dog promptly chewed up. {But that’s a story for another time.} Anyway, because the chewed-up shoes had become unwearable, I decided to harvest them for labels.

Lucky for me, Liz Claiborne had embroidered, adhesive labels in her fancy shoes at that time. Such luck! I simply peeled them from the carnage of the chewed-up pumps and gave them new life in my Target flats. Those rectangular designer labels fit perfectly over the no-name discount labels and no one was the wiser.

Until now, 27 years later, when I tell the whole world.

If thrift stores had been a big thing back then, I would have cleaned up. But they weren’t and so I learned how to shop clearance racks like a boss and pillage the family closets. Though I never felt like I looked the part, my family tells me I left for school every day looking put together and on trend. I’m quite sure they were biased but still, I will forever love my mom and dad for complimenting me all the time on my knack for making something cute out of nothing much.

I didn’t see it as a gift; I saw it as survival. But in retrospect, my parents were actually on to something. I wish I’d actually acknowledged my knack for hacks as the resourcefulness that it was.

Fashion Note #4: Practice pattern mixing until you can do it in your sleep.

I know it was hard for them to not be able to buy everything my teenage heart desired but they gave me so much more. They surprised me with the occasional mega-splurge, like a pair of Calvin Klein jeans folded up at the edge of my bed one morning. And my mom, whose Southern roots meant that she always wanted her girls to have a new Easter dress, prayed with me in the mall parking lot before we’d go in to shop. She would ask God to provide, even though our means were limited. And God always did.

Years later, I’ve been known to do the same with my daughter. I’d call that a legacy, even if it’s about something as superficial as the clothes we wear.

And that’s why I’ve never written about any of this here on the blog — because it seemed superficial.

Except that it’s not.

Every single person on the planet has to put on something every day — whether it’s a loin cloth or a designer gown. For most of us, it’s something in between. Thank goodness. Because I don’t know the first thing about accessorizing loin cloths.

But I do know a thing or two about mixing up your closet with creativity and resourcefulness because I’ve been doing it my whole life. I love combining new pieces, accessorizing, hunting through cast-offs and coming out with something amazing.

If I’d really been paying attention, I’d have realized long ago that this isn’t superficial at all. My real-life friends ask me for help and I love to do it. They’ve even prompted me to write about it on the blog or to go into business doing closet makeovers. I’ve always just brushed it off because:

a) This is fashion we’re talking about and I’m a “serious writer.”

b) I’m not a professional.

c) Outfits don’t really matter in the grand scheme of things.

But when it’s something we all have to do every day? When it communicates so much about our personalities? When it paralyzes us from even trying because we’re not naturally good at this whole fashion thing? When it can easily costs lots of money that we don’t actually have?

Well, that sounds like it’s something that really matters and for a host of good reasons.

So I’ve started listening to what others say and taking to heart the clues from my past and my present — my friends, my sister, my husband, my parents’ affirmation all those years ago, the chatty girl with blue hair at the Deal Mart who looked me up and down on an everyday Thursday and asked me if I was a stylist, my daughter’s friends who say, Oh my gosh, Mrs. Vischer, I like, LOVE that outfit so. much. {Insert TBH and dramatic teenage voice emoji.}

Maybe my little world has been trying to tell me something all these years and I’ve been too busy with my important, meaningful, serious work. And also too embarrassed to reveal all my “secrets” because they are dumb and superficial and too thrifty for the average person.

Well, times…they are a changing.

Fashion Note #5: A Study in Contrasts. Juxtapose formal wear with “natural” elements like a plastic split-rail fence and fake grass platform.

Now before you worry that I’m about to become a fashion blogger, I’m not. I don’t even read fashion blogs. And besides, most of the real fashion out there isn’t that “real” to me. I’m a mom who looks cute approximately two days a week when I actually have to get out of my minivan and talk with other adults in public places.

Also, fashion isn’t my number one thing. I plan to keep writing the real about motherhood, faith, school choices, books, and the possibility of everyday redemption. That’s where my heart beats strong. Try as I might, I’ll never be a niche blogger. But you’ll always find the same theme here and it’s honest dish about real life — how the epic and the everyday frustrations, failures, and funnies are all tinged with hope, possibility, and redemption.

I believe that with all my heart because it’s the story of my life, the story that continues to unfold every day.

And I’m realizing that everyday redemption can even extend to our closets and how much fun would that be for all of you real women who show up here? Not to mention the fun I’ll have as the hostess.

I’ve got some super fun things in store for you.

One last thing before I conclude this post that has somehow become a memoir.

I’m sweating here. I’ve put off writing this post for weeks. I’ve been waiting for the brave to show up and guess what? I’m still waiting. But if we all waited until we weren’t afraid to begin, then no one would ever get on stage or write that book or say “I do.” So many of the best endeavors begin when we’re still shaking in our boots. I’m learning that the shaking is actually a good indication of meaningful, authentic work.

A few weeks ago I wrote a post that I was terrified to publish. I almost didn’t. Turns out that more people read that post than any other post in the 31-day series. Experiences like that give me courage to lean into the fear and the unknown and say yes anyway — even over something as silly as an announcement about a new fashion niche on one’s blog.

I’ve got more to say in my next post when I reveal some of the inspiration behind this new endeavor. {And introduce you to a couple of my muses who have inspired me with their bravery, creativity, and permission.} And I’m going to tell you a bit more about what’s in it for you.

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Your turn. Because friends, I so need some feedback here. Where are you on this issue of your wardrobe? Do you feel clueless or stuck? Have you given up all hope? Could you use some inspiration and practical tips from a real person? Do you have a closet full of nothing to wear? Do you want to learn thriftier ways?

This shopgirl wants to meet you where you are.

Tell me everything.

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