A Little Bit of French Fashion

"Simplicity is the keynote of all true elegance."  Well said, Coco Chanel! I have been inspired. A trip to Paris with my husband on a past anniversary enchanted me with all things French.  For good reason the Eiffel Tower is an iconic symbol of Paris-- at night, it is gorgeously lit up, and each hour white lights blink and sparkle throughout it. "Scintillating!"said my French friend. It was, truly.

I so much enjoyed watching the people. In the mornings we would eat breakfast, street-side, in a little cafe while people were going to work. This was not the high-fashion district, so we got to see "regular" people. The women seemed--how shall I say?-- quite self-possessed, in a calm, confident way (not like me, for example). I bet they looked basically like the best version of themselves. No one appeared to have thrown something on and raced out the door. Each one had something about her that seemed unique, like a nice scarf or neat shoes, or she was wearing beautiful lipstick. Her whole outfit, or "look," also worked together, like a cohesive whole. This fascinated me, since they were so simply dressed. Upon interviewing my French friend (and doing some reading and youtube watching), I have come to find out that apparently (most) French women do not keep large wardrobes. They have a small amount of clothes, and each piece is rather special in it's own way... Hm. Small, simple, very nice... That appeals to me, as a somewhat artistic person lacking in sustainable administrative practices, including wardrobe management.

Here are the two main "rules" that French women follow:  1) Do not have too much. 2) Have what you know is wonderful for you.

But how do you know? Can a person know? Yes, I maintain that you can! Try thinking about it intuitively.  Go over to your closet. Don't rush. Breathe.  In, out.  Now, look things over (you may need to check drawers as well), and pick out the ONE garment you actually wore a lot this summer, that you felt was wonderful--or just right--for you.  Find what you know looked nice on you, what you felt happy to put on, what you felt most "yourself" when wearing (maybe you were complimented on it, too). What did you eye, and reach for first? (Don't intellectualize right now). Mine was a sleeveless shift dress--a print of turquoise and white background with strong pinks and tiny dashes of orange and lime green, and with white braid trim at the neckline. It is a happy dress. It is classic in cut, though not quite so in the print, but that is all right for summer, to be light-hearted. It is a happy, cheerful dress. It's like going to Rita's for a cherry icy... What did you choose? What did you like about it?  Try to think of words you would use to describe, say, people or places you like, or even food (for example, my pajamas. They are so soft and cozy, they are delicious). Now, do one more. What did you come up with? Mine was a simple black tank top that fit just right (not too skimpy; that makes me ill-at-ease). It can go with just about any summer skirt, shorts or pants I own. It is practical. It is like the Baby Bear's porridge in "The Three Bears." It is Just Right! How about your second one? Why do you like it?  How do you feel when you wear it?  How would you describe it?  These two items have just earned their way into next year's summer wardrobe!

I hope this little exercise will begin to give you a glimmer of what it can feel like to someday look into your closet and feel happy, because everything you see is something you really like. It does not have to be very much, either!

Are you wondering about how this fits in with being a desperate, struggling believer? In this world, there is desperation, and with it, cries for help and deliverance. God does---really does--show up, and by His mercy I wake up each day and steward (deal with) what He has given me.  How I use my time; money, food, relationships I happen to be in--Proverbs and Ecclesiastes speak to that stuff. It is what I do every day here, "under the sun."

Since by faith in Jesus, I am totally accepted by God, what I do (ie, my work, which is never is perfect), is washed by the Blood, too. The wrongs, the cheapness of my heart, are forgiven. So what then? I love the KJV on this one:  "Go thy way, eat thy bread with joy, and drink thy wine with a merry heart; for God now accepts thy works. Let thy garments be always white; and let they head lack no ointment."  Ecclesiastes 9:7,8.  Hear that? There is joy, white clothes (back then, white clothes were nice and special, and it took time to get things clean), and ointment on ones's head (hair products? ha, ha).  Amazingly, this is given to us in the imperative. My work, my creativity, is accepted by Him, and at the end of the day's work (truly in spite of sorrows and evils), I am to sit down to supper with joy!

So, hopefully with joy, in our next wardrobe chat, we will talk about lessons learned from Marie Kondo in her book, "The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying Up" (think de-junking, applied to your clothes). The book is a good read.  It is probably at your public library.

Thanks for reading this post!

Au Revoir,

Margie

Grace Along the Way

What is the journey of your life?  A circus caravan, with monkeys screeching and leaping around in their cages as you roll along? That is, do you struggle with chaos? Or are you trudging hot, dusty roads with your backpack straps digging into your shoulders, on a pilgrimage to some sort of Mecca, whose expected glory is fading before you even get there? That is, do you struggle with hope? Or perhaps despair? Is your trip through life at times (or ever) a cushy-smooth ride in a BMW, in which you cruise with speed and style -- but you have a nagging whisper to your heart that "the nearer your destination, the more you're slip-sliding away?" (Thanks for that thought, Simon & Garfunkel)!

There is a gap, often huge, between how we actually are traveling our journey and how we wish we could. We fill the gap with hard work, planning, new ideas. That's me... We fill it with lots of little things, like eating way too many potato chips, numbing out on screen of choice, making and keeping friends who keep us safe and shallow... I have done those things, too--oh, yeah. There has never been a shortage of "drugs of choice" in the history of the whole world, some perfectly respectable, and some not so much.  

Then there is Grace. Grace along the way. I do need it, even when I don't realize it.  Especially when I don't realize it, because those monkeys in my head are screaming way to loud for me to hear anything sane. Like, perhaps, "Hey, there is such a thing as hope, here."  Or the heat and dust of the road whisper, "Just forget this. Lay down and die. Goodness gets bestowed on far better, stronger people than you."  

 Grace on the way. It is, in truth, with me every step of this journey. It is often--even usually--invisible, but quietly present. When life beats me up so bad, that I end up lying on the side of the road, Grace is on the way, like a sort of Good Samaritan who treats my wounds and hoists me onto her donkey. She whispers Hope into my weary consciousness, and -- eventually -- wobbly strength returns to my legs. "Advancing still from [wobbly] strength to strength, we go where other pilgrims trod, until we stand before the face of God."

The Face of God?? This is the final destination? Yes. The Beatific Vision. The Shekinah Glory. To see The Great I AM.  Yahweh, Himself.  Jesus--the lover of our souls.  He Whom we have desired, even when I we thought that what we wanted were a million other things. The Spirit, Whose groaning prayers for us will be fully answered... Home. At last. 

The screaming monkeys in our heads will be silenced. Our burning feet will be cool and washed. Our King was the kneeling Servant. False comforts will vanish, the curtain will fall, and the circus lights will fade... The journey will have ended. It will be done, finished. 

Then?  Peace.  Enfoldment.  I look into His eyes and know I was the beloved all along.  He smiles into my eyes, bends, and whispers into my ear a new name He has named me. I nod. 

We both know why.