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By nature I am a neat and organized person. My reality lately has stood in stark contrast, however, to my natural inclinations.  It has been especially so since the children were all given beds recently. We have moved furniture into different rooms and repurposed pieces to make everything work and allow everyone a space of their own. As a consequence to that moving and recreating, we have boxes and stacks of papers and clothes and toys EVERYWHERE.

It’s driving me insane.

My teenage boys decided to skip archery tonight to finish up some homework before the end of the semester next week.  That allowed me a free day.  Home.  All day.  To clean and organize this disaster.

Midway through I began to spin out into a million pieces in the air around my body. It seemed to create a vacuum that pulled my mind along with it.  I couldn’t think as I spun in circles, willingly following that vacuum into nothingness.

I had to escape for awhile!

I retreated to my computer and looked at the pretty pages on Facebook and Pinterest, trying to forget the mess all around me.  The beauty I found on those sites seemed to calm me.  I focused on the delicate roses and the wispy window treatments and the white linens.  Awwww.  I was pulling back together.

Somehow in there I found my way onto a style quiz.  I have no idea how I ended up there.  I have no style, and that isn’t the type of thing I usually take any interest in whatsoever.  But, I was there, so I took the quiz.  I sat in my hand-me-down Levi’s that were probably in style in the ’90s and are a size too small, the old T-shirt I got on clearance when one of the boys was a baby, and my dad’s old, black hoodie and took a quiz that would determine my style.  Oh, boy!

I figured that I was flunking it by the third question because every answer was different.  I do know enough about those things to realize that they usually are determined by some sort of pattern.

However, by the time I was done there was a slight pattern.  I couldn’t wait to see what it revealed about me!

It said…….I’m Boho.  What?  What does that mean?  I had to google it.

There on the screen were examples of this particular style.  And, interestingly, I saw items similar to those few items I have been privileged to choose for myself–flowing tops, maxi skirts, suede fringed shorty boots.  And, the models all had long, messy, wavy hair.

I ran to my closet and began to look at  the things hanging there that I’ve actually chosen for myself.  I was completely blind-sided.  Apparently I am a closet hippie!

My husband tried to dress me like some porno star, biker chick.  I felt like I was dressed up for Halloween whenever I had to “dress for him.”  So, I rebelled and dressed as “mommish” as possible when I could.  Thankfully, we were too broke throughout most of the marriage to buy any clothes for me at all, so I just got stuck wearing whatever his boss’s or co-workers’ wives didn’t want anymore.

Before R came along my mom bore a heavy influence over me and either kept me so broke I couldn’t afford clothes (she always had a crisis that I had to cover), or she went shopping with me and manipulatively influenced my purchases so that I dressed like her.  And, of course, there was always the flannel.  All Pacific Northwest country girls love flannel, right?

I honestly couldn’t tell you what I like or if I’ve ever even had a style.  I don’t know.  Perhaps I didn’t even think it was important.  I wasn’t ever really into fashion and never got the whole shoe thing that so many girls seemed to fret over.

I did have some clothes I loved though.

I began to think back to those favorite items I’d had over the years–the things that I couldn’t hardly bear to part with when they wore out.  There was the white peasant top with little blue flowers that I wore from ages 7 to 12.  It started out as a tunic and ended up a crop top, but I LOVED that thing.  There were all the hand-me-downs from my dad’s girlfriend.  One outfit really stands out in my memory.  It was green, like my eyes, so everyone complimented me on it.  I think the pants were twill, the turtleneck was soft, ribbed cotton, and the jacket was corduroy, and it came with a lightweight scarf.   I loved the contrasting textures.  Oh, and the lavender velour tank top that I wore under the airy, deep purple floral blouse!  I had a long skirt I loved to pair with those.  I always felt so feminine in that outfit.

My favorite outfits jumped out at me from the computer screen.   Not exactly those outfits, but the examples shown of the Boho style were strikingly similar to my all time favorites.

It seems ridiculous I’m sure.  A woman my age hasn’t ever figured out her own sense of style or taste?  I couldn’t.  I wasn’t allowed to.  Until now.  So, I took that stupid quiz that I have no idea how I found, and I discovered that I actually have always had a style or favored a particular fashion genre.

So, tomorrow I’ll wear my little fringed boots with my jeans and multiple layers on top and throw a scarf on for good measure.  I’ll wear those bracelets I love so much and my dangling earrings.  Then, I’ll tousle my wavy hair and spray it, so that it stays nice and messy all day.

And, I’ll hold my head up high, feeling good about my fashion choice.  Because it is a choice.  My choice.  And, it is a style!  Who knew?!