Claree of Steel Magnolias once declared, “The only thing that separates us from the animals is our ability to accessorize.” Gosh, I love that movie and the delightful expressions unique to Southerners. Thank you, Robert Harling, for writing that book, though I’m sorry for the loss of your precious sister.

I must be an animal because I lack the ability that comes naturally to many women. On any given day, you can see me dashing to the car in half-zipped boots and dampened hair. Lipstick isn’t yet applied, and there is no time for mascara, let alone eyeliner. My outfit for the day doesn’t coordinate with my handbag because I only change effects seasonally and not with each ensemble. How do you have time when there are a zillion things to do each morning?

If you were to pull your car beside me in a parking lot, you’d catch me plugging in my earrings and committing the act of farding. Maybe I’m not an animal but more like a fifth grader who has to giggle at a word that means cosmetics application. My lipstick goes on crooked because it’s difficult to apply while laughing.

Thank goodness slovenliness does not appear to be an inherited trait since my two daughters are beautifully dressed and accessorized. You won’t see them with a lone curler in their stubborn tresses. They must have heeded advice to “Don’t go outside with wet hair, or you’ll get sick!” Both of their grandmothers routinely visited the beauty parlor, and their purses matched shoes on Sunday mornings, so there must be something about skipping generations on specific traits. It takes work to overcome my shortcomings, but I am making that effort, one YouTube tutorial at a time.

I have a jewelry chest full of sad earrings missing their mates, necklaces with broken clasps, and junky stuff no one would wear, but I can’t bear to toss them. Since I had a pressing task of cleaning the bathroom, I decided it was vital at that moment to rifle through my cache. 

I had a moment of inspiration when I untangled a strand of chunky brown beads from a smattering of silver and gold chains. Look, no missing pieces! Maybe I can wear this necklace with my chosen outfit for the day? And, look, here are two earrings of the same family. Would this work with my dress?

It was a 45-minute drive to my appointment, so my hair was dry once I reached my destination. I removed the pink curler from the right side of my head and double-checked to ensure all buttons snapped and all zips were zipped. I was pleased to note that I avoided my usual fashion mishaps.

The meeting went well, and perhaps it was from a burst of confidence that my slip or bra straps didn’t make unwelcome appearances. A celebratory meal afterward at one of my favorite restaurants seems reasonable once errands and appointments are completed.

The server gasped when she brought the menu, and I reflexively glanced at my top. Did I spill something on myself? Or, worse, is something unbuttoned?

 “You’re so nicely accessorized!” she reassured me. “Your outfit looks great with that necklace.”

I was shocked as this isn’t my natural state of being. The women in my friends and family group have made an impact to better myself. See, scrolling through silly videos isn’t always a time suck.

No, I’m not a giggling fifth grader or a wild animal; I need better time management skills. The jumble of necklaces in my jewelry box will be untangled and hang along coordinating outfits. Earrings will be set aside the night before, and neutral color handbags will eliminate potential clashes. I may still need time to apply lipstick in the parked car and try not to laugh when I think about the word farding.