Nobody Told Me How To Dress For A New Life
What moving taught me about clothes, home and starting over.
I used to know how to get dressed.
Going to my closet was exciting. I always knew what to reach for, and somehow the right outfit made me feel ready to take on the day.
Arizona was easy. The sun showed up every morning, and so did I. Lightweight dresses, sandals, sunglasses. I didn’t have to think very hard.
Then we moved to Laguna Beach, where the weather has a personality of its own.
Some mornings a sweatshirt is too much. By the time I change into a t-shirt, I’m cold again. By afternoon, I’m wondering why I wore sleeves. By evening, I’m searching for a sweater again.
It took me a few weeks to realize I wasn’t just learning how to dress for a different climate.
I was learning how to dress for a different life.
As it turns out, learning how to dress has been one small part of starting over.
We’re looking for a new vet. I need a new place for a blood draw. Cory needs a dentist. We’ve had to find a grocery store, a movie theatre, and the restaurants that will eventually become “our places.”
Some days it feels like an adventure.
Other days it feels like work.
I’ve worn jeans on days that turned out to be perfect for shorts. I’ve layered up for a cool beach morning only to find myself wishing I’d worn a tank by afternoon.
The gray mornings have surprised me more than I expected. I hadn’t realized how much I relied on waking up to sunshine.
The weather keeps reminding me that I’m still getting to know this place.
In Arizona, getting dressed was almost automatic because I already knew my life.
I knew where we’d eat dinner.
I knew which roads I’d drive.
I knew which restaurants required dressing up and which ones didn’t.
I knew the rhythm of my days.
In Laguna, I’m still discovering the rhythm.
Every morning I stand in front of my closet a little longer than I used to. Not because I don’t have anything to wear, but because I’m still learning the rhythm of this place.
Maybe that’s what moving really is.
You don’t just unpack your boxes.
You figure it out as you go.
One beach walk.
One trolley ride.
One favorite restaurant.
One outfit.
I’m beginning to realize that dressing for a new life has very little to do with clothes.
It has everything to do with feeling at home in a place that still feels new.
And maybe that’s okay.
Some things—like style, home, and belonging—aren't meant to be figured out all at once.
Tomorrow morning I'll stand in front of my closet again, and maybe I'll know this place just a little better than I did today.