Every day we are bombarded with mixed messages: “hustle” “no one will do it for you” “you better work” while at the same time “no job is worth your happiness” “toxic positivity is real” and the more general, “take care.” The confusion is overwhelming. Cue Adam Lambert’s anthem, “What do you want from me?”

Of course, I know the answer is depends on the day, depends on the need, and depends on you. I will say though that it’s exhausting just thinking about all the things I “could” be doing instead of the things I “should” be doing. With a tiny bit of time off this week in between phases of a film project, I’m doing the hustle shuffle: taking stuff of my plate work-wise so that I can be a masochist and fill it right back up with personal stuff.

Sure, I could start a new TV show and binge it through. I could try a new recipe but I’m no cook. Or I could go for a long walk every day or something active. But I won’t. Part of that is while shopping I walk and haul a tonne so I’m tired. The other part is that I feel the need to be home. This pandemic isn’t over. 

Instead, things on my “off week” to do list include researching different types of paint for home improvement DIY projects, mailing loved one’s gifts, chores and drop off errands that have been piling up, and cleaning various things including the car, my home, and my basement explosion of costume and styling work stock. The basement storage/ work area struggle is real.

I have other things more me focused on my list too: paint my nails, hang some curtains in the primary bedroom for upcoming night shoots (and my hope to sleep through the day when required), and catching up with loved ones from a safe distance. I believe they call this all being a human who participates in self-care.

Self-help, self-care, and self-improvement are a massively profitable lifestyle category seemly targeted and the folks that already have the most: educated white people. Ooof, I’m guilty there. I do believe the way to change anything is admitting there’s something to change. Awareness of the truth is everything. Thus, while it’s horrible that it took so much to realize what I’ve got, I now know.

On the subject of self-improvement, through the years I’ve come to realize that I get way more out of reading business theories applied to everyday life and tough love get-er-done approaches like Marie Kondo or Michelle Obama than I get from a seemingly performative (in an effort to “relate” or “sell”) self-deprecating granular voice like Brene Brown or Glennon Doyle. While their “ah-ha’s” and realizations are real for them, they don’t serve me. I get frustrated and stop. Turns out I’m programmed differently. You, dear fashion friends, are likely programmed even different yet.

Speaking of fashion, friends, “What does all of this have to do with style? Your existential meanderings must mean something to you, but what’s there for us to take away?” many must be thinking. Here’s the thing: everything you say or do – including the way you dress – is an extension and expression of who you are. Dressing is often putting your feelings or state of being “out there.” How we act is part of that. It’s also displayed in how we rest.

Some people cosy up in sweats that have been through it. “It” meaning the dumpster since college but they are beloved anyway. Some people dress up in the fanciest clothes at home to escape the reality of our current world. Some carry on just as they had before in a causal dress somewhere in between the first two examples.

I personally love the idea of an outfit mirroring what your day entails, even if that’s multiple things. I have work-in-the-yard clothes (also double for film sets), I have luxe loungewear for staying indoors (also doubles for luxe high-low street style moments), and I have sparkles and heels for Zoom parties (or you, know, out-of-the-home parties in the near future, fingers crossed Health Canada). Most of that gets worn in one weekend, for me. Sometimes all on one Saturday. Let me live, ya’ll; I’m doing me.

Does it matter what you wear when you’re chilling? To me it does because I’m a nosy professional, and it should to you. But that’s where the “give AF’s” should stop. Like Mama Ru’s Mama told her, “Unless they gonna pay your bills, pay them bitches no mind.” Thanks Gramma Charles.

Forget what I just said. Because I am nosy, share your best rest look with me, would you?