Skinny Overalls in Jansing Wash

A love letter

from July 2021

I strive to look hot a few times a year. You want me to attend your black-tie weddng? I’ll bust out one of my three pairs of heels and shimmy into some Spanx. I might even put on some lipstick! Most of the time, though, I settle for what I hope is girl-next-door cute. I believe in comfort and style, but my wardrobe definitely leans towards the former. Open my closet and you’ll find tops and dresses that are black, navy, or striped. I own brown shoes, black shoes, and navy shoes. If it isn’t already obvious, I don’t make bold fashion choices. I like what I like, and I stick to it.

Or at least I did — until I impulse-bought a pair of overalls two years ago. 

I could be an overalls person, I told myself as I stared at the Madewell website. And if I can’t pull them off, I’ll just return them! I took a deep breath, hit “add to cart,” and rushed through the checkout process until the deed was done. Phew! Now I just had to wait in agony until they arrived and I could check “try overalls” off of my mental fashion bucket list before immediately shipping them back to the store.

When the package arrived, I dashed upstairs and shut the bedroom door. I needed to be alone with the overalls. 

You know that scene in The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants when it’s America Ferrera’s turn to try on the magical jeans? She thinks there is *no way* they will fit her curvy body, and even after she successfully zips them up she still laughs and says she has to take them off. Her friends insist she look at herself in the mirror, and when she does her eyes grow big, she looks herself up and down, and she says wow! to herself. That was me when I tried on the overalls.

I couldn’t believe how perfectly they fit. I couldn’t believe how comfortable they were. I couldn’t believe how instantly cool I felt. I looked at my reflection and whispered, wow. I loved them. I couldn’t wait to wear them!

Except, I didn’t. I nervously wore them twice to work that fall before gaining stress-weight over quitting my job. I didn’t wear them after losing the weight because the world had shut down and there wasn’t anything happening to look cute for. My overalls got jammed in the back of the drawer, overtaken by pairs of stretchy black leggings. They remained there, forgotten until I took a capsule wardrobe workshop months later that prompted me to answer the questions: What do you love to wear, and why? What do you never wear, and why? 

The overalls made the top of both lists. 

There was something about seeing it written down that turned a switch in my brain. I adored my overalls. Why wasn’t I wearing them? I had made the bold choice to buy the overalls. Now I had to make the bold choice to actually wear them. I resolved then and there to stop using COVID as an excuse. I wore them during Zoom Bible study. I wore them to a socially distanced lunch with my coworkers in the park. I wore them to a playdate. 

When a word is typed into existence, you see it. It’s perfectly readable. But when it’s typed in bold, you can’t miss it. It wants to be seen. It shouts look at me! This is how I feel now when I wear my overalls — confident, willing to be noticed. My overalls tell the world I’m playful and friendly, and okay, maybe a little dorky. As someone who could easily get lost in a crowd, it feels fun to stand out for once. It’s fun to be someone who wears overalls.

I’ve noticed two common reactions to my overalls: people either gush over how cute they are or they voice how much they wish they could pull off overalls. Or they do both.

I used to be you, I want to say. But I learned something from my overalls — I pull something off by wearing it with confidence. This newfound knowledge led me to buy leopard print sneakers. Then headbands. (Me! Wearing headbands!) Then platform sandals, tie-dye sweats, and flared jeans.

What will I feel bold enough to try next? Wide-leg pants?

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