Dressing the Part

So today was hospital day for John’s big tests. And I was reminded of my guidelines for caregivers in hospitals. It’s dangerously close to Glamour Magazine’s Do’s and Don’ts—but I swear there is science in this advice:

You must dress up. Caregivers listen to me on this. You are thinking “comfort” but your more important goal is “power”. Yes, you have to sit around in these clothes all day but you want to be seen and you want to be heard. And yes, you—like a teenager being told how to dress for an interview—may say “But that shouldn’t matter”. And you're right. It shouldn’t. But here’s reality: It does. And in Cancer Land the stakes are high. The impression you want to make is: See Me, Hear Me…(do you hear the music from Tommy?) and Take my requests very seriously.

No sweats for you. No baggy in the bum jeans. No hair-in-ponytail-with-no-makeup look for you. For the patient? Yes. Comfy time. And no valuables, no watch or wallet. But for the caregiver: you wear your good watch, nice earrings, stylish scarf and make up. It is a kind of job interview after all.

So that was my strategy today. Belly full of nerves and an arm full of bangles. Also I always go with the valet parking. It is not more expensive. They stamp that ticket so it’s free and much nicer, especially when leaving the hospital with a drooswy man.

And John was drowsy! The anesthesia was heavy and his reaction was quite funny. In the recovery room he was lovey-dovey, and curious about every detail of every little thing. Because I have never seen him take a drug or even a glass of wine it took me a few minutes to realize what I was seeing. But when he held up his little plastic cup of cranberry juice and slowly turned it around and around saying, “Isn’t that a beautiful color?” and “That’s soooo pretty” that I realized that he was stoned. Here is the straightest man in the world talking like Cheech & Chong.

That was fun.

Fashion Tips for Caregivers at Chemo

The question arises: What should a caregiver wear to chemo? There is no official dress code but think again. My favorite look: Khakis with a black linen shirt worn over a black tank top (layers are good) black ballet flats (they signal a causal insouciance) and my new necklace—black pearls inserted among silver waves. This is the gift from John: subtle, stylish and very me.

Hospitals, doctor’s offices and even at chemo-Looking good makes a difference. Leave the sweat pants and polyester at home. Go for neutrals, polish and natural fibers. (There are enough chemicals in CancerLand for everyone.)

Diana Vreeland, the legendary editor of Vogue wrote, “The one presenting the most style has the most power.”  In this powerless situation, style is a consolation.

Obsessed by Dress

“What shall I wear?” is society’s second most asked question. The first is, “Do you really love me?” No matter what one replies to either one, it is never accepted as settling the issue.

--Judith Martin b. 1936

Dressing for All of It

Ok, here is my sartorial challenge for tomorrow:

I begin by delivering food for volunteers, then go to the public radio station to record a holiday essay, then to a ladies holiday lunch at a country club, then I meet John at the oncologist’s office for his post-chemo check-up, from there it’s back to the office to meet with more volunteers. I have to create one outfit that can last all day, fit all these circumstances, and that is comfortable!

I have laid out several outfits: Brown skirt and sweater with “good” scarf and low heels. That’s pretty me but underdressed for the luncheon. So I try brown sweater dress, pearls and boots. Again comfy and easy and nice looking but more like church. I have lots of black—but do I want to wear black to the oncologist’s office? Bad omen? Bad sport? Black and red will work for the holiday lunch and I could wear flats most of the day and switch in to the pointy high heels for the lunch. But then do I look like a party girl at the volunteer event and like a Republican wife at the NPR station? And what if the news is bad at the doctor’s office? Will I be Tammy Faye with streaming mascara, low cut top and sparkly gold earrings?

Does it matter? I know, you think the answer is no, but it’s not. It matters a lot. It matters that I feel like me all day long and that I look and feel good so I can stay in my skin until and when listening to the oncologist. If the news is good I’ll be glad my earrings are dangly and if the news is bad I’ll be glad that all of me was there.