Breaking Black, or How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love Bright Colors

          I recently had an epiphany in the fitting room of a Forever XXI. While that specific verb and specific proper noun don't normally go together, this is a true story. All names, situations, and places are real, and based on fact, so hear me out. In an attempt to hurry spring along, I decided to go shopping for a new sundress. Seasonal transition lines have officially hit the racks, nibbling on the heels of New York Fashion Week, and I had just received my (slightly depressing) paycheck that morning. Now, I've always been under the impression that if something depresses you, you should be rid of it as soon as possible, which is how I came to the logical conclusion of retail therapy. One of the best places to find an array of different dresses with semi-respectable price tags is Forever XXI.
          Stop. I can hear you groaning from all the way over here.
          I will be the first to admit that this monstrous chain tiptoes the thin line between trendy and trashy much more often than I am usually comfortable with. However, much like the search for the perfect pair of jeans, if you take your time scouring through rack after rack (after rack after rack after rack...), more often than not you'll find something that suits your fancy. Forever XXI tends to get a bad reputation because it's pretty fearless with what it stocks on the shelves. It knows that everyone has a freak flag deep inside that needs to fly free every once and a while, and when that time comes, it'll be happy to provide heavy doses of weird. Even though most of those bright purple, faux fur pimp coats will meet their slow demise and sell for $4.99 in the clearance room, there's always that one girl who is looking for a statement piece like that to complete her closet. F21 rules because they simultaneously refuse to conform and try to please each of their customers.
          But I digress. Because I have this problem of liking pretty much everything, I ended up bringing a million and one dresses with me to the fitting room. While they were all cute (well, okay not all of them; I don't know why I thought cheetah print peplum was going to round out my life...) nothing struck me as hot-to-trot amazing. As paltry as my wages are, I wasn't about to blow them on a sub par dress. I asked the attendant what she thought of the one I was most sold on, a little black number with an illusion sweetheart neckline, white bow print, and a-line skirt. She took half a look at me before suggesting that I try its red twin. On the floor, I had originally picked up the red one but ultimately opted out, thinking it too precious. I slipped into the one she brought me and realized how wrong I was. The red one was anything but precious. The red dress forced me to stand out, even by myself in the comfort of a private dressing room. I couldn't hide from myself. The color was less firetruck, more salmon-swimming-against-the-current red: strong and determined. My pale skin went from bland to brilliant in front of my eyes, sparkling like a Stephanie Meyer vampire. My dark hair took on the opposite effect, the color richer, more striking; it pulled one in with its darkness, like a black hole. All of a sudden I was a White Stripes cover. I was the answer to that age old joke of what's black and white and red all over. I didn't know what to think so, slowly cracking the door open, I asked my New Best Friend what she thought. She pursed her sticky glossed lips as she had me turn for her. "Yeahhhh..." she said, "this is much better. You look like you actually enjoy life now." I told her that this dress was totally out of my comfort zone, that I normally stick to the darker colors. "Yeahhhh..." she sighed again, "You look like one of those girls who wears a lot of black and drinks a lot of espresso."
          Biddie went from bestie to bitch in two shakes of a lamb's tail but it got me thinking: since when did black get such a bad rep? Isn't it supposed to be a classic, pairing with everything and perfect for every occasion? Looking around as I write, I'm noticing that almost every person here has a black something. Black scarves, black shoes, black thick rimmed glasses, black smartphones, and yes, black coffee. I wonder if this is out of choice, or out of lack of choice? Is our love of the neutral becoming a problem?
          Okay, I know that sounds melodramatic so let me try and explain it differently. I feel as if the color black and the term "comfortable" have become synonymous. We all have been taught these wonderful (and completely true) things about black. If the piece fits you well, black can be extremely slimming. It's hard to dirty up a black dress or black slacks, hence why most restaurants adopt it for their dress codes. Because black is the culmination of all colors, it's understandable how it can be acceptable for all occasions; one could wear either black or baby blue to a wedding reception, but the same can not be said when choosing an outfit for a funeral. With black being so universally accepted, we have fallen into a dangerous rut of it becoming our first and normally only choice when it comes down to what to wear. You ultimately blend in when wearing black because everyone can pull it off; you never hear someone going, "Oh, only you could wear that shade of black. It looks so bad on me..." When I think back to all of the fashionable pieces that will always remain in my sartorial heart, very few are black, and those few are expertly tailored or dramatically crafted (see Audrey Hepburn in Breakfast at Tiffany's and Jackie O's funeral veil). I feel more and more like America is stylishly depressed. You go out wearing black because it's never let you down before. Your friends say, "Wow, that dress is great" but then it's never mentioned again. That dress is not a conversation piece. What your friend is really saying is, "That black dress helps you pass as acceptable. Moving on."
          As harsh as that may come off, you don't want to be just "great," just "acceptable," do you? You are a stunner. You are a fox. You have every right to be your own conversation starter. I looked into my own closet after my shopping trip to take a gander as to what my black pieces were saying about me. The restaurant that I work for recently dumped the old uniform of white-button-down-and-tie for a streamlined, all black code, so my collection of the dark neutral has grown significantly. Most of my black clothes were just that: black clothes. Things I could go to work in, professional pieces. But I wasn't just wearing them to work, no, no. I was taking them out for nights on the town, treating them like party pieces when, in reality, they're a bit of a snore. I was starting to let basics rule my look. Freshman year of college, I would rock the most insane color combinations while others stuck to hoodies and jeans. Now, I have reached the age of what some would classify "adulthood" and I worry more about what others think. I need to get a steady job and a bank loan, and ain't nobody going to take me seriously in high-waisted, floral print shorts.
          But, so what? Just because I'm twenty-two and just because I'm being thrown into a new, professional world doesn't mean I need to trade my personal style in. There is always room for ikat prints and neon creepers (the shoes, not the person)! Unlike black, bright colors and prints can't be worn for every occasion, so we should start celebrating the times that we can wear them by doing so. There are too many beautiful things to wear, and still so much time to wear them. Starting ASAP, I'm challenging myself to wear more color. Scary, I know. When you choose to wear color, you choose to put yourself out there. You choose to show yourself off. You become the proverbial peacock rather than the pigeon. Here are some tips I've gathered to help you transition from bland to bah-zing!
         
1.) A dab'll do ya. Start small if your shy about bright colors, work it into your accessories first. Try a printed bag or colored belt with jeans and a sweater. Opt for the sparklier jewelry, or thick headband. Even a pop of lipstick can add interest to an otherwise somber ensemble. Try practicing with these small steps every day, and soon color will become a habit and you'll want to wear more.

2.) Try the twin. Pull a me and if the piece you're trying on comes in a color, try that one on, too. It may not work, but you'll never know until you take that chance.

3.) Learn  what colors work for you. It may seem extremely old lady, but "getting your colors done" is something everyone should at least explore. There are handy dandy quizzes floating around the Internet that can help you with this. They take your skin, hair, and eye color (along with a few other factors) and generate a list of hues that will compliment you the best. With my dark hair and light eyes, I'm a winter, which shouldn't really be a surprise to anyone. This profiling gave me insight into colors I never thought I could pull off, like eggplant and rust. I always assumed they'd make me look like a ghost when they actually help my features stand out. Go figure.

4.) Try, try, and try again. Not everything is going to look great. However, not everything that you think isn't going to look good won't look good. You feel me? For example, I recently was shopping with my best friend Hillary and ended up picking up a violently pink neoprene dress. This pink was hurt-your-corneas bright. We both thought that no one could pull such a shade off, which then prompted me to try it on. Obviously. When I put the dress on to show Hillary, she said, "Literally one person could pull off that color. That one person being you." Sometimes seemingly awful things end up being amazing, like the Cupid Shuffle or WarHeads candy. Have a little faith but more importantly have a little fun. You're too fabulous to take yourself seriously all of the time.