My mother told me that when I was old enough not to get my clothes so dirty, I could wear white. I'm 56 years old. I wore white for my wedding and when I worked at the hospital. I can't make it out of my bedroom in the morning wearing white clothes without staining them. I am wondering just how old I have to be to master this milestone. Perhaps when I am in a nursing home, sitting still, not cleaning anything. . . no, eventually I would have to eat and I would inevitably spill something.
Who cares about coordinating ensembles? My entire wardrobe is designed around not showing dirt. I wear print tops because solids show more stains. My idea of a light spring color palette is khaki. The closest I come to pastel is gray. It helps that dark colors like black and navy, and vivids like jewel tones go better with my complexion, but I knew I preferred them years before I found out about my color wheel. I wore whatever colors allowed me to make it to the end of the day in the same outfit without looking like an ad for stain remover.
Frankly, at this point in life, I don't worry as much about wearing colors that flatter me--my body doesn't flatter me. Like Captain Ahab, I continue to pursue my elusive white nemesis, but so far I remain off white.
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