When I was 16 years old I got my first taste of what would become one of my favorite (and most vain) hobbies, photoshoots. My next door neighbor was a photographer and with a brain full of creative imagination and inspiration she asked if I would be willing to “model” for her every so often. My shy, incredibly awkward 16 year old self was nervous but jumped at the idea of playing model for the day. So that evening I pulled out my favorite little hippie dress and prepared to stand gawkily in front of the camera. I was gawky, I had no idea how to pose or what sort of faces to make or even how to put on make up (clearly) but Emerald was so sweet despite feeling like a deer in headlights I was hooked!
Fast forward 6 years (wow, it’s insane to think it’s been 6 years!) and I reintroduced the same dress into my wardrobe. It’s funny because the dress itsself never left my closet, it was there hanging beside a tie dye maxi skirt with a tear in it and high low skirt I never wear but for whatever reason can’t just hand over to Goodwill. The dress was sitting there all along but despite pushing past it on several occasions I never could bring myself to get rid of it, because it’s more than a dress, it’s like a little time capsule, a symbol of exactly who I was at that time in my life.
As I have reintroduced the dress to my body (aka I’ve actually worn it) I’ve found myself examining change. I have the same best friend as I did at age 16, I have the same awkward slightly pigeon toed walk, I laugh at so many of the same jokes I would have laughed at then, order the same iced mocha at Starbucks, overanalyze the same relatively unimportant situations but the girl in that little brown daisy dress is not the same girl no matter how little make up she wears or how awkward she feels trying to pose like Coco Rocha. The little girl in the daisy dress wanted to save the rainforest, she never skipped class, and she giggled when her crush made eye contact with her from across the cafeteria at lunch. That girl went to youth group on Wednesday nights, she swore she would never touch alcohol and she rolled her eyes ever so dramatically when reminded not to leave her wet bath towels on the floor any more. That girl was so head over heels in love with a boy who had just moved to California, a boy who was so smitten with her that he moved back and stayed with his youth pastor for the entire following school year just to be with her. That girl doesn’t exist anymore, but the dress, the dress is still exactly the same.
Curling my hair, spritzing myself with perfume and sliding on my yellow bow wedges it really hit me how much people do change, maybe not at the core but all the little things, and so many of those little things really do matter. I accessorized with my new Tory Burch bag, a sparkly golden headband, wedges, and lipstick. I couldn’t help but laugh knowing that the other, the baby me, wouldn’t have understood any of those things just as she didn’t understand the beauty of a glass of champagne or heart break or how much better your legs look in heels.
What else do we repurpose in life? Do we continuously reintroduce the same pieces/people/situations hoping that they will magically have the same effect they did before? When it comes to relationships, romantic or otherwise, can we really introduce someone back into our lives that has been “pushed” into the back of the closet for so long? How can we rekindle a relationship from a time before we understood accessories and pink lipstick?
Do you have any pieces that immediately transport you back to another time in your life (another you perhaps)? Have you successfully reintroduced a person from your past into your future? And most importantly how have you changed since you were 16?