I Didn't Stage It, These Women REALLY Said This!

I didn't stage this.

Pita Jungle healthy restaurant, 4 women friends, hummus with cucumbers for all, none of those wheat-starchy pitas for these gals!

Lori's red hair accentuates her bright eyes, creamy skin & flirty smile, and the hot pink scarf she wears screams "I'M SASSY, CAN YOU TAKE IT?!"

Tarley is sporting her hot pink, skin tight workout pants that accentuate her new 18% body fat frame; headphones around her neck have become her signature look from always coming from the the gym as she prepares for her personal goal of being in a swimsuit competition next year as she celebrates her 40 years on Earth.

Sara's blonde hair and beautiful jawline show off her ad-worthy million-dollar smile, accented by her penetrating blue eyes, while the "windows" of her slitted-shoulder burgundy top allow her soft, pale skin to peek through - subtle, like it was an accident to be sexy.

I'm woman #4 - I know I look good, fall colors, newly done hair, boots to drool over - I can't see me, so I don't really know what else to say. But hey, I'm an attractive, fit-in 4th chick at this table. If I were a man over 25, I'd be actively checking us out. If I were a man under 25, we look like a good litter of cougars.

Two of us are single/no kids, two of us are married with kid(s). The conversation makes it's way to this blog that they haven't yet heard of. "What do YOU want to focus on in 2014, Jennifer?" As I respond, I say the phrase, "Defensive-Dressing-dot-com." Immediately, they ALL know exactly what I'm talking about, although none have them have heard the phrase before today. As is the norm with this amazing, genuine, evolved group of women, they begin to spontaneously share/confess:

Lori wrapped her voluptuous, va-voom self in the traffic-stopping flirty hot pink scarf in defense to the thought that Tarley and her now-perfect ass will look amazing, so Lori's scarf will divert attention from what she perceives to be her less-than-perfect ass. Lori DRIPS sensuality, NOTHING to defend, but well done, nevertheless - it worked!

Tarley laughs and says she wore the pink skin-like pants today instead of darker ones, because she "knew there wouldn't be a lot of people at the gym today," and apparently is defensive about the way the pink ones look versus other choices. But her entire bottom half, with full booty & long legs is ENVIABLE in any color.

Sara tells us about her lamentation process at her closet this morning because she ate her way through Thanksgiving and gained some mass. So she spent quite a bit of time Defensive Dressing before lunch to find what would camouflage her perceived latest issues to defend. Finally, she settled on jeans with the top with cutouts on the shoulders... which Jen (me) had ironically noticed immediately at the table, and thought was very casual sexy and flirty while still totally "daytime wear."

I personally chose something fall, warm, colors that look good on me, making sure the sweater vest hung lower than my butt, with freshened lipstick that sets the whole thing off as an "outfit." I was meeting with these beautiful, successful women and simply wanted to fall in line, looking pretty (although also knowing I could have shown up in sweats with no makeup and they'd be just as delighted to see me).

As these amazingly powerful, sharp, beautiful women shared today's live-action report of Defensive Dressing, we were all LAUGHING at what we did, how we thought, what we assumed. We laughed at ourselves, we laughed at each other, and we laughed WITH each other at the whole nuttiness that not ONE of us was exempt - we ALL literally Dressed Defensively today before leaving the house! 

It's hard work. It takes effort, energy, contemplation, strategy. More often that not, it is done from our point of view of what there is to camouflage, to compensate for, hide, distract from... To DEFEND.. ourselves... our selfs... against certain "other" parts of... our selfs... which now that I break it down, seems about as logical as being on an inflatable boat while firing shots at the other end of the boat.  

Fortunately, it turns out there's some fun to be had in becoming aware of this Defensive Dressing thing. It's simply our attempt to FEEL BETTER about ourselves in the midst of the inner battle. I don't know that we can (yet) stop it, but in the midst of it, we can embrace it and laugh at it's silliness.

Reality Check of Zipping the Plaid Shorts

So I'm talking on the phone to my friend Maria today, and we are sharing experiences of currently being on a Low Carb Diet (LCD) lifestyle, as we have both done HCG in the past more than one round to lose weight (HCG is a particular weight-loss plan. That's all you need to know to stay with me here). It was effective for both of us, but neither of us sustained the loss later. Zero fault due to HCG, we just grazed our way back up the scale. 

We are both now simultaneously in search of a LIFESTYLE to stay slender that goes beyond merely "accept it" to actually ENJOY said potentially-mythical lifestyle, the one that will keep us from big fluctuations in weight. But there ARE people doing it, and they still enjoy their relationship with food (albeit in a different way than most U.S. mainstream eaters might define "enjoy"). So we have reason to believe we can get there too.

Our shared challenge: We both LOVE FOOD. She's Italian - actually lived there into her teens. That's her excuse for loving food. If you've ever been to Italy, or even read, "Eat, Love, Pray," they really ARE all about food experiences, so I am in full support of her excuse. I'm a generic white girl from California, so I don't have that excuse. No matter - we both are obsessed with delicious edible experiences, and among other commonalities, we share a deep passion for the pursuit of the perfect gelato. Even though my gene pool might not have a pull for it, I allow myself to have a daily dose of gelato when visiting Italy - yes, DAILY. It genuinely feels like research, to find the best shop, creamiest consistency, and favorite flavor. Or verify, daily, that I have in fact chosen the deserved winner, in the case of coffee flavor (Italians know coffee) at that shop in Amalfi facing the bus depot (Good thing my longest run in Italy has only been 2 weeks...)

After agreeing that the number on the scale is less important than how we look and feel, I share with Maria that I have this pair of plaid shorts that I've had for a few years, and I am using those as my most valuable measurement right now. They are not the best-looking item of clothing, or even best-looking shorts that I have - this isn't like Oprah's 1988 fantasy jeans (if you are old enough to know what I'm talking about).

It's not about that. The plaid shorts have merely been with me enough years to have sustained a couple of 20-pound round-trip journeys, and they are made of "hard lines," as opposed to any elastic - the fabric itself doesn't "give." So they are like a measuring tape without numbers, tailored to me. I have worn them somewhat baggy (bottom of the 20), I have worn them fitted (mid-20). I have a few pictures of myself in those shorts, proof that when they fit anywhere in there, I am in the "acceptable" range for myself. If they don't fit at all, I'm NOT going to like what I see in photos (a much more accurate self-assessment than a mirror, having to do with self-imposed mind games). When I started this LCD (Low Carb Diet, remember? last reminder) a few weeks ago, they were obscene and didn't actually zip closed. I didn't freak out, I just laughed (BIG GROWTH, no pun intended). "Well, haven't WE gotten uber-fluffy, Jen?? Time to turn this scale-tipper around." Yup, I was at the end of my 20-lb tether.

As I share this, Maria is "um hum"-ing me, she's feelin' me here - regardless of how I FEEL my size is, the plaid shorts are a reality check. She agrees that certain items of clothing are a good marker, and she asserts that all women have a wardrobe of more than one size, because this is how the majority of us live. 

One more point about the plaid shorts that didn't end up coming out in conversation - as a result of past self-torture inflicted by pawing through my closet in my naive youth, I can only try them on when I feel both:

--A. Hopeful (as opposed to trying them on to prove to myself I am still "fat" - no purposeful beating up of self allowed), and 

--B. Positive enough to be KIND to myself in response to the fact-check. To genuinely be able to say, "Hey, you know what? It's getting better, good for you, keep it up, you're hot anyway," blah blah (but not in a WalMart kinda way. This comment will make sense soon).

(Digression: I'm feeling very on-edge while discussing this, as I alter between keystrokes and bites of Talenti Sea Salt Carmel gelato, which I am supposed to be allowed to indulge in today as my one "cheat day" per week to keep my metabolism from stalling. Oh God, Tim Ferris, I'm eating through this pint on invisible faith in you & your 4 Hour Body as one of my voices inside screams, "YOU'RE WRECKING YOUR WEEK'S WORK!!!!!!!" MMMM.... this gelato is seriously... MMMMMM....)

So today, before my Blind Faith Binge Day formally began, I tried on the plaid shorts as a reality marker. I explain to Maria that happily, although they didn't FIT, they zipped, and if I were one of those WalMart girls I'd totally be able to flaunt them today, ignoring the muffin-top spillover, the social unacceptability of the pockets bulging a bit because the fabric is pulling (no give, remember?), and the far-worse social unacceptability of the CAMELTOE that no strategic pulling can as of yet dislodge. 

(Digression #2: I wish that "muffin top" wasn't such an accurate description, because muffins used to be a really happy thing for me & the top is the best part, and I do still love to admire them in their bakery cases. By the way, have you actually checked out a camel's toe? I have, in Egypt, and the term's slang-usage accuracy is akin to that of "muffin top." We apparently have some astutely observant geniuses out there creating our English slang vocabulary for us).  

If I WERE one of those WalMart girls, I'd take today's successful zip-up, do a little waist-twist in front of the mirror, and say, "Oh YAH, they fiiiit! Guuurllll, you lookin' HAWT, you still gottit, mmm hmmm!" But apparently something in me disallows this almost-enviable optimistic view of self.

Maria bursts out laughing. "You really should write a blog. Every woman can relate to that shit right there, and the way you word stuff..." So here you have it, my sassy WalMart-ready look (insert applause here for courage to even post this pic - I look like I'm trying to put on a child's pair of shorts). 

Ironically, I already HAVE such a blog, and even the website URL to go with it. She had no idea DefensiveDressing.com had been birthed (and subsequently abandoned). I took it as a sign it was time to give it some attention, circle back. I know it was very inspired when it all came to me, I just didn't know what the heck to DO with it, got info overload by learning about blogging as a formal topic, reviewed facts and details of it, potential directions to go with it, yadda yadda, all interesting, informative, "food for thought." 

And as I keep hearing from a couple of jaw-droppingly successful guys that make a LOT of money by the KISS method (Keep It Simple, Stupid), "A confused mind is a frozen mind." People don't take action with there's too much going on in there. Moi included. I forgot all there was to do was just type out what I think, feel, and see (literally or figuratively) regarding pretty much anything remotely related to Defensive Dressing on any given day. Since I conveniently live in my human body every day, I always have fresh material at my fingertips. Or at the crest of my muffin top. Or at the toenail of my.....  Ahem. TMI.

The Birth Story of Defensive Dressing

Q. Where did "Defensive Dressing" start as a term and a blog? 

A. In my mind, as a naturally obvious description of what it is like to get dressed when one feels one has something to "hide" under clothing, thus we Dress Defensively. It was such a natural term to me that I didn't realize it wasn't in common usage, until I spoke it a few times and people asked what that meant. I'd say, "You know, when you pick out what you are wearing like, 'Okay, this shirt will camouflage my back fat / love handles / belly." Then with instant recognition, people would light up, "What a GREAT way to describe it!" (And I would think, "Well, duh, that's why I said it...") 

Then I signed up for a workout challenge, where I had to make SMART goals (Specific, Measurable, blah blah - Google it if you care). She wanted me to set a weight goal, but my honest response was that I don't know nor care what number I want to be, I just know what I want to look and feel like. I have been in trouble in the past obsessing over the number beyond my toes, and it SUCKS. I don't want my mood swings related to a 4-second placement on a scale, it's just asking for a round of talking myself off the internal ledge over a .2 pound gain that might be PMS or salted food, or yes maybe FAT but it's POINT-TWO pounds. She grudgingly accepted that I would measure myself on a scale of 1-10 of my sense of Defensive Dressing.

A 1 on the scale of Defensive Dressing is freely grabbing any article of clothing, throwing it on and looking and feeling amazing in it. A 10 on the scale of DD is wishing I looked Polynesian so the daily wearing of huge, flowey muu muus would simply appear to be deep dedication to my heritage through traditional dress; in other words, at 10, ALL articles of clothing are chosen to attempt to HIDE OUR STUFF.

As I continued to use the term, more people related. Even men (the civilized ones, not the cheap-beer-guzzling ones that actually believe they still look awesome in that wife beater) say they definitely understand Defensive Dressing. Come on, it's the unwritten mission of Tommy Bahama wear: "Our mission is to provide $120 man-shirts to hang (hopefully) gracefully over your man-belly that's ingested a few too many $120 martini dinners."

Then one day I was at my friend Lisa's, sharing with her my story of DD-ing on my last Vegas trip. The nature of her business is very reliant upon internet marketing, so I guess her head goes there in reflex: "DEFENSIVE DRESSING DOT COM!" she blurted out at top volume. I got a rush of energy that was reeeeally fun, and I knew she was onto something. She rushed to her computer to see if it was available as I almost held my breath... I really CARED about this website, which was weird. "IT'S AVAILABLE!" she yelled. So I grabbed it with no idea what I'd do with it, but it was MINE. It SHOULD be mine, it felt right.

I Googled the term, and amazingly enough, it was a phrase rarely used. Relating to actual FASHION, I found one article scanned from the 80's or 90's that used the phrase, but the author was using it to tell women to avoid getting attacked by men by not wearing mini-skirts and the like - dress "defensively" to avoid rape. (Oh, okay to be accurate, I just checked - it was written in 2008 in the Deseret News if that means anything to any of you; it FEELS like it's from the 80s because she suggests wearing padded shoulders to appear bigger and wear baggy opaque clothing and fedora hats to add height, all of which made for a fashionable ensemble in my high school years).

The other reference was a single blog entry 5 years ago by a young woman who dressed in something she really liked because she knew work would be crappy - she "defensively dressed" cheerfully against the impending misery of her employment. 

UNBELIEVABLE. It sure FELT like it was a common term.........

I loved sniglets as a kid - anyone remember those? I mean LOVED THEM, I had the books. For those who missed the early 80's and/or the HBO show "Not Necessarily the News," a sniglet is "any word that doesn't appear in the dictionary, but should".

I have always loved expressing myself with brilliant words that may or may not be real but I follow it by saying, "If it's not a word, it should be," and I'm totally serious. Defensive Dressing is my own sniglet phrase.