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Fashion and Its Healing Power
There are those who think fashion is frivolous or silly, but I know better. Only a couple of people on Ricochet know this, but I was sick last year. On May 20, 2016, my friend and neighbor threw me into the car and rushed me to the ER when I had a severe attack of abdominal pain. She knew I’d been having these for months because I’d missed parties and dinners, and this time she said, “Okay that’s it! We’re going to the ER.” I made her wait while I took a bath, washed my hair, shaved my legs, dried my hair, and put on makeup and an outfit. My reasoning was that if I showed up looking the way I was, they wouldn’t even try to save me.
When I got to the ER, they did a CT scan. A doctor came into the room and said, “We found a mass in your abdomen. You have cancer. We’re operating right now.” I barely had time to absorb this dire diagnosis because they knocked me out. Lucky for him, because I was about to give him a piece of my mind on the topic of bedside manner. I mean he wasn’t exactly DocJay.
He later told me that when I’d arrived at the ER, I was about six hours from death. My friend saved my life. And I had made her wait an hour while I took a bath, did my hair and makeup, and selected a chic outfit. No wonder they call vanity a Deadly Sin. But I couldn’t help it! One of my favorite quotes from a famous style icon and former editor of Vogue was running through my mind:
“I loathe narcissism, but I approve of vanity.” — Diana Vreeland
Thanks a lot, Diana! That’s the last time I listen to you.
But on to the healing power of fashion. I went through chemo from July 1 till the end of January. It was a mild course for lucky patients like me who are curable. The mass was contained, and they got it all plus 21 lymph nodes. The chemo was just to be on the safe side. I didn’t even go bald or throw up. I didn’t feel good though. It was pretty awful, but it could have been worse.
My last treatment was January 25. The week before it, I woke up one morning, looked in the mirror, and realized that I Iooked dreadful. My skin had aged 10 years since July, and there were little red blotches on my face. I couldn’t believe it. The doctor said, Well you were being poisoned for six months. She said I’d go back to normal. At the beginning they told me that, while I wouldn’t go bald, my hair would get thinner, and it did. And here I was at the end of it, alive but with a blotchy face and much thinner hair, looking like the Wrath of God. So what did I do? I accessorized.
I was determined to at least feel pretty even if I didn’t look it. Even though I work from home and some days never see another human, I got up each morning and put on something cute. And bracelets and a necklace. And perfume (Calèche by Hermès). I slick my hair back into a ponytail. I do this every day, and now that a few months have gone by, I’m starting to look normal again.
*An aside: Boss Mongo directed me to the Etsy shop of a family friend, and I bought some chokers from her. Her stuff is so cute! I wear them every day. Thanks, Boss! You didn’t even know why this was so important to me. Here’s a link: https://www.etsy.com/shop/LooshandCo?
Even when I didn’t look like I wanted to look yet, fashion and style made me feel better about everything. Frivolous and silly? Maybe. But during that awful time, I know it contributed to my recovery. Somehow I know that if I’d spent the last few months in sweatpants, I’d still be that blotchy person looking back at me in the bathroom mirror that day in January.
I had my last CT scan on February 20, and was declared cancer-free. You guys never knew it, but you saw me through one of the worst times of my life. Logging in here every day and laughing and reading all of you, it was almost as healing as clothes. Don’t get all cocky, I said almost.
And now for a few of my favorite fashion quotes:
“Your dresses should be tight enough to show you’re a woman and loose enough to show you’re a lady.” — Edith Head
“People will stare. Make it worth their while.” — Harry Winston
“Trendy is the last stage before tacky.” — Karl Lagerfeld
@docjay @bossmongo
Published in Humor
Sandy, thank you for this, and I view you and Liz as my friends too (where has she been? Dealing with the new store, I bet).
Yup. I’ve been telling her about this post, but she is snowed under. https://www.facebook.com/serafinoitalianleather/
Oh it’s beautiful! And I love the name and logo. I’m not on Facebook or I’d give it a Like.
I was on Facebook briefly, not under my name but as RightAngles. I can’t have anyone involved in my career see me liking conservative pages etc, plus I was in the Facebook groups Conservative Friends and Ricochet. I left a negative but polite comment on the Audi page after their awful Superbowl ad. The next thing I knew, I had an email from Facebook telling me that someone had “reported” me, and they demanded to see I.D. with the legal name of RightAngles on it. Of course I can’t produce that. But when I try to log on, I get the form asking for my I.D. that says RightAngles. So I can’t even log on to delete the account. Every day I get notifications from them telling me I have friend requests etc but I can’t get in.
I remember when you were gone and when you appeared again; you said you had been in the hospital. But you never told us all this! I am very thankful for your friend and for the doctors who saved you. We can’t do without you!
I miss your pokes.
They should rename themselves Fascistbook.
I remember that! It made me feel so good that someone had missed me! Yes, that was when I was having the surgery. I was in the hospital for three weeks. I wrote this post partly because a few people PMd me during chemo wanting to have meetups in Texas. I want them to know why I couldn’t.
I was in the hospital for three weeks. I went to sleep in May and woke up in June. It was a brand new medical center only 5 or 10 minutes from my house. I was in a private room the whole time, and after a week, I told the nurse my bill must be about a million dollars. She said, “Oh no, all we have are private rooms.” She was from Canada, and she told me if I’d been there, I would have had three or four roommates.
It was like a resort. I had a view of a pond, and three times a day a uniformed waiter or waitress came to my room to take my meal order. Here is the menu:
And here are some of my flowers:
I miss those pokes too haha. One day I logged on and it said “Mike LaRoche has poked you 165 times!”
I can’t even…go there…
Ha, now that’s stamina. ?
Yes, it’s a rather unfortunate term they use, isn’t it.
Facebook is hateful. I once tried to delete my account. I do not believe it can be done, at least not fully. Were it not a business necessity for me, I would never use it, and I do not post on my personal page. My “friends” do not seem to notice.
Dozens of people are wiping the coffee off their monitors after reading this.
I deleted mine to protest its support for Putin’s government in interfering in Russian elections. I had to google for instructions on how to do it. And it doesn’t really go away until 30-90 days later, I forget which. They want you to change your mind.
I deleted one of my Twitter accounts, too. It was one I used at work, and which I no longer needed. The account is gone but they keep sending me #faketrending e-mails about the stories they’re promoting. (I can’t delete my e-mail account, as I need it for managing my retiree healthcare stuff. And I don’t want to delete it, anyway.) Twitter feels free to shadowban political views it doesn’t like, but doesn’t allow me to shadowban Twitter.
RA, I too, am so glad you are here on the other side of all that.
You are absolutely spot on about the restorative powers of fashion or really, of anything beautiful. We are made for it.
Tell us please – what state – and city – if possible – is this resort in?
What a difference that must have made in your recovery!
It really was good for the morale. It’s outside of Austin, Texas.