What I'm Reading...Tim Gunn's Fashion Bible

Browsing at the library this week, I saw this book - Tim Gunn's Fashion Bible.  I picked it up primarily because it had Gunn on the cover, thus breaking the "Never judge a book by its cover" rule.  I was also drawn to it because the blurb on the cover caught my attention.  It says, "The Fascinating History of Everything in Your Closet".  This book is fascinating and it's really beautifully done in a visual sense.  But before I get into the book itself, let me give a bit of background about why I was drawn to it in the first place.

I'm not into "fashion", and I certainly don't dress fashionably, but I absolutely adore Tim Gunn.  I fell in love with him after seeing him on Project Runway.  I became a Project Runway fan about a year ago.  I hadn't given any thought to watching it before that even though it had been on for years, because I'm not drawn to runway fashions.  If I see runway action, I usually stare at the TV wondering how in the world "those outfits" can be considered beautiful, sheik or even wearable to the average person.  I don't "get" fashion, and I have little interest on seeing clothes I could never begin to afford on models whose wafer thin sizes are nowhere remotely near the average American's sizes.  In all honesty, I was harshly judgmental about fashion and pooh-pooh'd anything to do with it. 

But one day I wanted background noise while I cleaned so I left the TV on, and eventually came back to a Runway marathon.  Before long I was sitting on the couch and cleaning was forgotten.  The creative person inside me came to love Project Runway because, at it's simplest, Runway is about creative people who are given a project, a budget and a deadline for completing it.  Then it's up to each of them to "make it work", as Tim Gunn often encourages.  It is creative competition with some drama thrown in for good measure.  

I love seeing what the designers can come up with for each project, and I love watching the ways they adapt to meet the challenges that come their way.  Like any reality TV show, game-changing surprises are thrown in along the way to increase viewer interest.  Some designers do a great job meeting the challenges and others hit a wall.  This is 

exactly what I and probably all designers and crafters face as we create.  Creativity is tumultuous enough when I'm in my studio alone. I can't imagine what it would be like on a national stage! 

Tim Gunn is the added bonus in the scrumptiousness that is Project Runway.  First of all, he's so intelligent!  He has a degree in fine arts, was on the faculty of Parsons The New School for Design from 1982 to 2007 and was chair of fashion design there.  He's a mentor to the designers on Runway, and I've also seen him fill in as a judge on the show.  What I've come to love about him is the compassion and nurturing attitude he has towards the designers.  He can give some terse critique to them, but does so only as a means to strengthen their design and their achievement.  He deeply cares about the success of each competitor, and I've seen him get emotional on several occasions.  He also has a fantastic sense of humor!

So back to the book.

I love history, and at first glimpse I thought this book would be more about textiles and the process of actually manufacturing garments, but once I started thumbing through it I realized it was a history of where each article of clothing comes from and a sort of timeline from Ancient times to 2012.  It's not too detailed, so it isn't like reading an in-depth history, but it definitely gives a broad look at how fashion has changed across the times and across the globe; what has evolved, what has been eliminated and what is now considered essentials. 

Here are some of my favorite bits: 

Each section is devoted to a type of garment - the dress, pants, belts, even underwear (my favorite chapter!)  The chapter looks at the origins of the garment, the transformations it has been through, and the way it is viewed, used or disregarded in our modern society.  Thrown in are personal anecdotes from Gunn's own experiences - and sometimes they are rather snarky!  I'd never seen this side of Gunn before, but I like it!

I love all the photos he includes, and for a variety of purposes.  Some simply give us a glimpse of fashion in a certain time period.  Other photos demonstrate specific popular styles.  On this particular page, Gunn was using photos of Joan Crawford (left) and Wallis Simpson (right) to show dresses that became hugely popular after these icons wore them.  

Gunn also addresses the crazy fads and trends that are memorable for all the wrong reasons.  Who can forget all the crazy sweaters that Bill Cosby wore on the Cosby show?  According to Gunn, those sweaters were just as horrible as those crazy Christmas sweaters everyone wears.  Did you know that those Cosby sweaters still cost over $300?  I love these bits of trivia tossed in.  

Gunn includes several ads from various decades.  They are intriguing because they provide not just a glimpse of fashion history, but history as a whole.  The ads depict important events and people of the times, sexism, racism, lots of other "isms" and other fascinating depictions of our society across time. 

When there are multiple styles of any given garment, Gunn helps the reader distinguish between them.  This feature was especially useful in the chapters on skirts, jeans and dresses.  Who knew there could be so many variations on a given article of clothing!

Where pertinent, Gunn adds some instruction as to how to best wear a particular piece or how to select the right size/fit/style.  This element was what took this book from merely enjoyable to truly useful for me.  Not only am I learning some entertaining info, but I would also value this book as a reference before a shopping excursion.  

He even includes a little section at the back to aid in evaluating the contents of our current wardrobe.  I'm completely inadequate when it comes to determining what fit I need, (although I am wise enough to know better than to purchase skinny jeans or anything spandex!)  This book gives me a practical way of determining what's right for my body type as well as my personal preferences, and the worksheets sum it all up. 

A final plus - Gunn is very budget conscious.  Living in NYC and working in the fashion industry, I imagine that it's very difficult to maintain a concept of what average consumer's can afford, but he does!  Some might say he's too frugal, (especially when it comes to what women should spend on a good handbag!), but I find it very refreshing to get fashion advice that is applicable in my ordinary life. 

I devoured this book in two days - and it's substantial.  I never would have thought that a book on fashion would be so appealing to me, but I definitely enjoyed it and am strongly considering adding it to my own collection of books.  What are you reading?

 

How I Persevere...

Some tools for persevering - my phone to connect to people, my planner to plan, my ipod to workout to, some magazines, and a birthday card from my sis-in-law. 

 
When I blogged recently about my experience with returning depression I said I would address the ways I get through it.  As I contemplated the title for this post, it took me a few minutes to find the word I really wanted to use.  I thought about "How I Battle Depression" or "How I Fight Depression" and even "Enduring Depression" or "Beating Depression".  Nothing felt right until I thought of the word persevere.  I even took a moment to find its definition on dictionary.reference.com:

per·se·vere

 [pur-suh-veer]

1.  to persist in anything undertaken; maintain a purpose in spite of difficulty, obstacles, or discouragement; continue steadfastly.

2.  to persist in speech, interrogation, argument, etc.; insist.

Depression can be bred out of negativity and cynicism, but those conditions can also result because of depression.  I strive to have a positive outlook in my life.  I'm not always successful, and I fall into the trap of sometimes believing that life is happening to me and not directly as a result of my own choices and actions.  One way to counteract those deceptions is to choose carefully the words I use to describe my life and my experiences.  

When I thought about the words "battle", "fight", and "endure", I noticed that they were all negative depictions.  And even though "beating" seemed a little more promising, it wasn't exactly accurate.  In my earlier experiences with depression I thought I could "beat" it.  I no longer believe that.  I do believe that I will learn to live the best I can in between episodes and strive to do the best I can when I encounter it face first.  I am not resigned to being depressed, but I am at a place where I'm trying to accept its existence in my life.  As such, perseverance seemed a better depiction of how I get through the down times.

It is really hard to come to terms with the fact that I have a disease that can rear its ugly head when it wants, how it wants, and for as long as it wants.  Like anyone living with an incurable medical condition, I want a "normal" life and I don't want to have to deal with the myriad of complexities that chronic illnesses create.  But also like anyone else, I don't get to chose that option.  Like it or not, I have an illness that requires a certain level of maintenance to treat.  And so I do the upkeep - mostly.

Not that it is easy.  Living with depression is harder than anything else I have accomplished in my life.  The biggest hurdle is that depression immobilizes me.  With the depression comes increased anxiety and the two team up to lay me low.  Admittedly, I spend a lot more time in bed when I am depressed, but I also have learned the importance of engaging in life to limit the effect of depression on it.  A term used in treatment is "act opposite", which means simply acting opposite to how one feels like acting.  Most of the time, acting opposite has a positive impact on how I feel.

I have a terrific therapist who challenges me to be a better version of myself.  I don't always agree with him or want to do what he suggests, but that is exactly why he is so good for me.    Last week especially I thought him utterly clueless as to how I must really be feeling inside.  But with distance I realized his advice was right.  He encourages me to maintain a "boot camp" mentality when I'm depressed.  He tells me to force myself to do the things I should be doing, just as I would be forced to do them if I was in boot camp.  If I was in boot camp, I wouldn't get the option to lay around or sleep all day. I'd be forced to act.  Action is a foe to depression.  

Last week when I was particularly depressed, my therapist helped me write out a to-do list.  This is a bit of irony in my situation.  When depression is not as present in my life, I'm an avid list maker and I love that feeling of checking off or crossing off items on my list.  I don't need anyone to help me figure out what I need to do on any given day.  I usually have more to do than I can fit in a day.  I love my day-planner and every appointment and engagement is carefully written in it.  But when I'm depressed, I withdraw and I avoid interaction for any reason and as much as possible.  Small chores and obligations stack up undone and before long I am adding to the depression because I now have the guilt of all that is left unaccomplished.  So my therapist helped me create a simple list of places to go and people to see that normally I would not need help in assembling.  

After that, it was up to me to decide whether I would follow through.  No one is going to follow me around and make sure I do the work.  No one else is going to reap the benefits of doing it.  It's of little consequence to anyone else (except perhaps, Kyle, because he's stuck living with me!) if I do the work or don't do it.  Most of the time I do it.  Sometimes I don't.  And it's usually apparent to me in little ways that doing the work is what helps me persevere.  

My list was simple, but I'm not saying it was easy.

• Take some donations to Goodwill
• Go to the gym 3 times
• Call a friend for lunch
• Go to choir practice
• Attend service on Sunday 
• Sign up for an online class at Coursera 
• Sleep 10 hours or less
• Eat right

I didn't want to do any of them.  Driving anywhere I didn't have to go seemed demanding, but once I unloaded those boxes at Goodwill, it was a relief just to have something little done. 

I detest working out.  I put it off as much as possible and I look for any excuse to keep me from going.  But the truth is, I feel physically and mentally so much better after a workout, even if it's just 45 minutes on the treadmill.  Exercise is proven to combat depression, and is a natural and free way to treat it.  Emotionally I feel good about doing something right for my body and I am always hopeful that working out more regularly will help me lose weight.  There is no down side to going to the gym!  But getting me there is not an easy task.  I decided to try a Zumba class to see if something more "fun" might make the gym more inviting.  I was proud of myself for trying something new - especially something physically challenging.  It's hard enough to try new things during my "up" times, let alone when I want to hide from the world!  

But going to the gym was not the only new activity in my week.  I've never regularly attended any church, but I was invited to sing in the choir at the Unitarian Universalist church.  This was appealing to me because music was a huge part of my life from fifth grade through my senior year of high school.  I loved singing in choir and I devoted a lot of time to practicing and playing the trumpet.  I got away from it in college, and I've missed it greatly.  It was also appealing because I've been wanting to attend a UU service for some time, but again I hate trying new things, so I kept putting it off.  Singing in the choir gave me a chance to sing again, and a reason to be there for service on Sunday. Choir practice was especially uplifting and enjoyable, but the service on Sunday was meaningful as well.  

My sis-in-law called me unexpectedly and wanted me to go to Ft. Collins with her and we had dinner.  I had lunch with my friend Ivan.  My mother made me a birthday dinner and Kyle and I played cards with my parents for several hours Friday.  And my father-in-law invited me to a birthday dinner on Sunday.  So I had more interaction with friends and family than usual.  And I spent my birthday hanging out with my two besties...

If you haven't heard of Coursera, and I hadn't, it's a perfect opportunity to take a free class online offered by top universities.  While you do get a certificate, credit is not given, so it's just for fun and for those nerdy people like me who just love to learn.  But engaging my brain is so important to me, and much harder to do when I'm depressed because of my inability to concentrate and process.  I signed up for the modern poetry class, and though I'm not exactly keeping up, I am enjoying revisiting modern American poets and their poetry that I haven't read since undergrad.  

Finally, as for the eating right and sleeping right, those are works in progress, and probably always will be.  

Persevering is also about balance, though.  While I was pretty active last week, I'm not as much this week.  I'm giving myself permission to be okay with that.  My therapist tells me it's okay to take time off from trying so hard to be well.  It's hard to give myself a break, but there's definitely truth to what he says.  I'm still trying to figure out how to tell when I should be in boot camp mode and when I should be a bit easier on myself.  But that's not exclusive to me or those who are depressed - that's just part of being human!

I also persevere because of people who believe in me - Kyle, my therapist, friends, and two wee dogs who depend on me daily.  This is a balance, too - finding intrinsic reasons to persevere but having extrinsic ones to lean on when I'm not my strongest self.  

I do not make great strides.  I take two steps forward, then sometimes twice as many back.  Treating depression is give and take and I'm never certain what will help and for how long.  I know that success will be measured in weeks and months and not in hours or days.  Sometimes I despair and feel hopeless, but fortunately more often I feel hopeful and determined.  I persist because I must, and because giving up is not an option. Perseverance becomes more doable when it is the only option.

Dogs with Attitude...

I've come to the realization that my dogs are incredibly spoiled and developing extreme attitude.  

Take for instance, this lovely rain we've had for 24 hours.  It's really more of a fine mist.  Hardly detectable.  Pip, who thinks himself a cat, is completely beside himself with the fact that he indeed is expected to go outside in it.  He stands at the edge of the house where the eve keeps about two inches of sidewalk dry, and he refuses to walk onto the wet cement and especially the wet grass.  If I leave him there long enough he gives in eventually and does his business, but usually I am required to carry him to the grass and place him on it.  It's pretty much like having a battle of wills with a teenager but I'm too impatient to wait him out.  If he were a real teenager I would be stuck with waiting him out, but since Pip weighs less than a sack of sugar, he's at my mercy.   

Dobby, though not one to hold a grudge in the slightest, gives me looks of a teenager too.  This was his expression this morning when he met the gruesome reality that he, too, was expected to go outside. 

In the back of my head somewhere I hear, "What chu talkin' 'bout, Willis?"

 
And Pip.  Well, he is not one of those forgiving dogs who never holds a grudge.  Catlike, he glowers and mopes until I've won back his love with a slice of bacon or a new rawhide bone.  

Here's another example.  My sis in law gave me a gift card to Barnes and Noble for my (early) birthday.  I thought that what with the rain and all, it was the perfect day for a trip to the bookstore.  I bought an awesome book on creative spaces, and treated myself to a slice of chocolate cheesecake to go.  I saved my treat for the end of my day.  I kicked back with my favorite peeps (or paws), and settled in for Friends reruns. 

Now, usually I am inclined to share a little of my people food with my dogs, permitted it's safe for them.  And whipped cream is especially appreciated by my little monsters.  But no chocolate for them, so that meant no cheesecake tonight.  With their dad being out of town, there was no one else to appeal to with those puppy dog eyes.  No meant no.  But it didn't mean they didn't try it on me.  

First there was this look.  Notice Dobby's eyes are sort of glazed over, as is what usually  happens when food is involved.  Notice all ears are perky and alert.  They are hopeful.  Optimistic even.

Then it gets more intense.  They start moving in on me, a sort of "in your face" maneuver to intimidate me.  Dobby tries an Oliver Twist pleading sort of ploy.  Pip just gazes into my face intently and says, "Look.  Look into my eyes..."  

This is generally where I give in to avoid what lies ahead. 

But as hope and optimist fades, the ears start to droop.  This is especially Pip-like.  Dobby's ears aren't as emotionally impacted.  The eyes start to become less rounded and somewhat piercing.

Then they start playing hardball.  They put on their sad faces.  They appeal to me with withering looks that whisper, "But Mom!  What did we do?  We just want a teeny morsel.  We'll try to do better - to BE better!"  Dobby particularly has the sad face down-pat. 

But I hold my ground.  I tell them the dreaded words every kid loathes to hear.  I plead with them, "But it's for your own good!"  And that's when the teenage drama queen in Pip comes out.  He turns his back on me and would cross his arms (paws) if he could.  And he refuses to talk to me.  Total silent treatment.  Dobby just continues to be pathetic.

 
So now you can see that these precious wee babes of mine are not as innocent and sweet as they might usually appear.  Especially the one on the right.  He can be a total diva.  

Except...

Less than twenty minutes later, this is what I had on my lap...

 My bet?  He's dreaming of cheesecake.

 

Reach Out to Prevent Suicide...

It's National Suicide Prevention Week through September 15th.  Few of us are fortunate enough not to have been impacted in some way by suicide.  Almost all of us know someone who committed suicide, attempted suicide or has had thoughts of suicide and some of us have survived suicide attempts. 
  
I really wanted to write something recognizing Suicide Prevention Week, but I've started and then erased over half a dozen posts.  I could reference loads of statistics about suicide and how to spot it, but that information is widely available online at the  American Foundation for Suicide Prevention or many other sites dedicated to suicide prevention.  And twice before I've written difficult posts about my own experiences with suicide:

• The Hardest Post I've Ever Written
• The Pain and Expression of Depression

But I'm revisiting the topic again today because I think "suicide" is a word that intimidates people and pushes people away.  To save lives, "suicide" needs to become a word that causes people to act rather than make them want to avoid a difficult situation.  And while I feel like a hypocrite writing about how to prevent suicide when I have been tempted by it myself, I also think who better to bring the topic to the surface than someone who has first-hand experience with it?

My advice today in honor of Suicide Prevention Week, is not to think that you know what suicide is or what it looks like.  It's not the statistics.  It's not crazy, mentally ill people who were so far gone or so far out there that no one could have helped.  The face of suicide can be and IS anyone.  No one is immune to suicide, and any person you know could be facing the challenge of preventing suicide - their own.  And if you think someone could be at risk of suicide, reach out to him or her in any way you can. 

It could be your sister.  It could be the college student you sit next to in church.  It could be the middle aged man who delivers your mail.  It could be the highly successful CEO of your company.  It could be your spouse, your child, your parent.  There is no "typical" face of suicide.  

If someone you know is exhibiting those symptoms of depression and suicidal ideation that are unmistakable, don't talk yourself out of confronting him or her just because s/he doesn't seem like the "type" of person who would hurt themselves.  If he or she is isolating, that's an even bigger signal.  

The single thing that has kept me alive when I've felt suicidal, is the tremendous obligation I have felt not to let others down.  Be it my parents, my husband or even a doctor or therapist, - anyone who has helped me in my life - I feel a sense of obligation to be the person they believe me to be.  I would not be here today if it were not for that sense of duty not to let down those people who have invested their time, love and devotion in me. 

In the depth of my depressions and in the darkness when suicide has seemed inviting, the weight of the obligation to any and all of those people has filled me with resentment.  I have been angry with them for keeping me "trapped".  But in the clarity that comes later when the depression lifts and the suicidal voice is muted, I am incredibly grateful for those connections to people because they are all that got me through and kept me alive when I needed a reason.  

The reason, for me, had to be external to myself.  I would not have seen enough worth within myself for me to make the decision to save my life for the sake of my self being worthwhile and important.  But I could do it for someone else.  I could do it to keep someone else from hurting.  

So maybe if you recognize that someone is in the type of pain that could cause her to take her own life, all you have to do is let her know how important she is to you.  And don't just tell her once.  Tell her every day.  Show her how she influences your life.  Don't let her withdraw.  Invite her over for lunch or just to run errands with you.  Don't make the mistake in thinking that she usually has it all together and just isn't the type of person who would kill herself.  

You have nothing to lose by investing time and energy into letting someone know he is loved and matters.  Whether it is a friend, a family member or the mailman, your efforts will improve their his and maybe even save it. 

Dementors: A Metaphor for Depression...

Dementors from Harry Potter

I've never been able to adequately depict the way depression feels and how it looks to me.  I don't have the words to describe these times in my life, and they feel so intensely personal that I didn't think anyone else could possibly understand, but one of my favorite writers has depicted depression in a way that I completely identify with and can relate to. 

If you're familiar with the Harry Potter stories, you certainly know what dementors are.  Appearing in the third book of the series, they are the soul-sucking beings who cause people to go crazy.  I recently read that author J.K. Rowling created dementors after a time in her own life when she was clinically depressed.  Once learning this, the idea of dementors acting as a metaphor for depression instantly clicked with me, and I couldn't believe I hadn't made that connection before. 

If one looks at the list of symptoms of depression, most of those symptoms are mirrored by the effects that dementors have on people.  Even the physical features of dementors compare to how I would depict depression if I had to put a "face" on it.  Dementors are cloaked, covered in gray, grow in dark places and create a thick chilly fog around them.  An aspect of depression that I've always experienced is the sense of a physical cloud in the distance in my mind.  As I get more depressed, the cloud grows into a bank-like fog.   It grows closer as my depression deepens and thins and clears when the depression lifts.  In the deepest depressions I feel sunken into the thick of the murk and its oppressiveness manifests in a physical sense of weight on me - usually on my chest or in my throat.  

Dementors feed on the happy memories and joy of people, and they cause people to relive the worst moments and horrors of their lives.  Rumination and focus on the negative is a major component to my depression.  Every mistake I ever made and every mark I ever fell short of are replayed in my mind to reaffirm my suspicion that I'm not enough, not good enough, and never can be enough. 

Dementors who latch onto a victim's mouth can suck out the person's soul.  We could argue all day about what a "soul" is or isn't, but I'll use a working definition of soul as one offered by dictionary.com:  the principle of life, feeling, thought, and action in humans.  Depression, likewise deeply affects these four elements of my life.  

When I'm depressed, there is a lack of principle.  Life has little or no meaning and is senseless and purposeless.  I either feel everything entirely too intensely, or I lose feeling altogether and am left hollow and merely a shell of myself.  My thoughts are scattered and undisciplined.  They are difficult to manage, and my mind is not as sharp or as skillful as it is in times when I am well.  Equally as frustrating is the inability to act.  Although I have a sense that tasks need to be accomplished, the will to do those things is lost and the ability to act on the most menial of tasks - getting out of bed, showering, even smiling, are feats that require strength I sometimes don't imagine I could possibly have.  It has been said that the kiss of the dementor is a fate worse than death, which could easily allude to the thoughts of suicide and suicide attempts that are often a component of depression when sufferers feel that any alternative is preferable to the hell of a depressive episode.  

Dementors are very present in my life right now.  I've been through my fair share of depressive episodes in my life and I can tell you it never gets easier nor do I ever feel more confident that I'll get through it in one piece.  The difference between depressive episodes I experienced when I was younger versus those I experience now is that I have more wisdom in knowing how to endure.  


Nothing lifts a depression immediately and I tell those who ask that there is nothing they can do for me because there truly isn't.  Beyond knowing friends and family are there to offer kind words or reassurances, it mostly lies within me to get through.  I can talk to my doctors, change medications and wait for them to work, and go to therapy, but at the end of the day I have to play the biggest role in getting through the bad times.

The trouble with this is that never in my life am I as unmotivated and ill-equipped to deal with a challenge as I am when I'm depressed.  I'll blog more tomorrow about how I fight my own dementors and the ways I attempt to keep them at bay even when they are not an immediate presence in my life.