24 Shades of Grey
Breakups are tough, right?
Source: Unsplash
Reader, have you ever been through a breakup? Does the way you dress even carry significance during difficult times? Who has the energy to think about an outfit when you’re feeling down in the dumps? And, where exactly is the self-help book about getting dressed while grieving someone who’s still around?
This January, I turned 24, and experienced a painful breakup that spiraled into a depressive episode. My mental health felt fragile. The weather offered no comfort; my eyes welled with tears, ready to fall like rain on a gloomy winter evening. I was uncertain about my feelings and unsure how to manage them. My therapist told me to take it one day at a time, but I felt trapped inside a single moment. My joyful self seemed wiped from memory.
Getting dressed became especially difficult because it had always been my language—my way of communicating with the world. Sky blue on sunny days. Flirty red on dates, to complement my brown skin. Jet black for museum afternoons at the Metropolitan Museum of Art, so as not to compete with the art on the walls. But suddenly, my vibrant world drained into black and white, leaving me wrapped in grey.
Tombstone grey—symbolizing the end of love. The loss of joy. The dull shade of uncertainty.
As I write this, my phone shuffles to Ariana Grande’s viral song, “Twilight Zone:”
“Is this a black and white scene? If so, I’m in the gray one.” When that lyric plays, it feels less like a coincidence, and more like a diagnosis.
I used to spend a quarter of my get-ready playlist carefully coordinating the look of the day. After the breakup, I spared no more than five minutes. I could hardly finish a single song before slipping on my shoes and starting my day. Grey became my go-to during a time when color felt invisible—ash, smoke, chrome. Heartless.
Not enough black. Not enough white. And that’s how I felt to the people around me: not enough.
I was living in fifty shades of grey.
Source: Banana Republic
It began with a grey Italian wool coat from the Banana Republic flagship on Fifth Avenue. Then came the charcoal-wash denim from Zara. Grey denim, after all, had been the model-off-duty staple during fashion week the previous season.
Even my attempts at retail therapy resulted in cashmere in slate, amherst, and gunmetal.
When the breeze felt lighter and my worries got smaller, I gravitated toward softer shades. But, even when I attempted dopamine-dressing to jolt myself out of the lull, I somehow landed back in white. Or black.
Spring break is approaching now, and I’ve decided to take control. If I can’t feel the joy naturally, I’ll dress for it on purpose.
I’m forcing dopamine back into my closet—practicing the art of embodying happiness and enhancing my mood through color.
Source: Unsplash
If it weren’t for my serotonin-fueled trip to Miami two weeks ago, I might still be wrapped in that soulless shade of stone. I would never have pulled out the vintage orange Roberto Cavalli top I’d been saving for a “happy day,” or the red shorts I’d reserved for a Baywatch-style run along the beach. Sometimes, all it takes is sunshine, ceviche, and a piña colada to remember that life still offers rainbows.
And so, I’m truly making the transition—from stone grey to dandelion yellow.
Have you ever noticed changes in your wardrobe after hard-times in life? Leave a comment below.