It's 8 PM, you're in a fitting room surrounded by a graveyard of "almost right" options, and your college roommate's garden wedding is tomorrow morning. Every dress feels either too formal or too red-carpet-y, and you're starting to wonder if you should just fake the flu. I see this scenario play out with my clients constantly. After years of styling people for weddings, I've started to think that getting dressed for a wedding isn't just about picking an outfit—it's about solving a complex equation with multiple variables. Or like solving one of those word problems from high school math, except instead of trains leaving stations, you're calculating heel height versus grass density. Once you figure out the formula though? Everything...
Drop-waist dresses are having a major moment right now. They're literally everywhere this summer—I can't walk into a store without seeing at least five. But here's what everyone wants to know: can I actually pull this off? As an image consultant, I hear this question constantly. Women see these romantic, floaty pieces and think "yes!" but then... doubt creeps in.
So here we are again. August. The stores are confused: wool coats hanging next to sundresses, boots cozying up to sandals like some kind of seasonal identity crisis. And honestly? We're all standing there wondering if buying a cashmere sweater when it's 90 degrees outside makes us prepared or just delusional about our closet space. Look, I've been watching this retail dance for years now, trying to decode pre-fall shopping. You know, that weird time when stores pretend it's October while we're still sweating through our t-shirts. I think I've finally figured it out.
You know that moment in every initial consultation? When someone's face just... shifts. Like they've suddenly realized their style struggle isn't about being bad at fashion. It's about growing faster than their closet can keep up with. They've changed, evolved, done the work—meanwhile their wardrobe's still trying to dress the person they were in 2019.
I've started calling it the "visual vocabulary gap." Here's the thing: imagine you're fluent in French, right? But you're stuck trying to explain quantum physics with phrases from a tourist guidebook. You've got all these complex ideas, this whole evolved sense of self—and your clothes are over here like "Où est la bibliothèque?" and "Un café, s'il vous plaît."
Twenty pairs of heels. That's what I counted last spring when I finally faced my closet. Twenty! Most worn maybe twice, all bought in that dangerous mood where you convince yourself this pair will somehow transform your entire summer. You know what I realized? I'd been collecting shoes like they were Pokemon cards—gotta catch 'em all, zero strategy involved. Total chaos.
