Seven Seconds Or Less

The past two days have been sprinkled with excitement, just enough to keep me pushing forward. Today's exciting news was the call for an internship interview.

And despite all of the things I should really be thinking about, like getting my portfolio in order and going over interview questions and you know, sleeping, I'm sitting here fretting about my outfit for tomorrow.

Which sounds ridiculous. But is it?

They say it takes about seven seconds to make a first impression. Within that seven seconds I'll smile, shake the interviewers hand, say hello and take my seat. But let's be real, there will be an initial judgment   made based solely on the first glance.

I haven't built my professional wardrobe just yet, and the church wardrobe is no longer sufficient.
This morning I spent too much time at home pulling all of my options from the closet and trying on each one before deciding against them. All of them.

Tonight, I went on a desperate search for something that felt and looked more like me.

At the first stop I tried on two dresses. One that wasn't as flattering on my body as it was on the mannequin. The other I fell in love with right away and stood in the dressing room with it on for what must have been at least 15 minutes. But, it didn't look like any of the pictures of professional attire I've been shown over and over and I didn't have anyone to consult, so I said my peace, parted with it and moved on.

At the next stop I tried on another dress. And I loved it. I stood with it on for another 15 minutes. Just as I was about to take it off and prance proudly to the register I decided to see how it looked when I sat down. And that was the end of yet another love affair.

At the last stop I called my Mom to get that advice that Mom's give in crunch time.

"I think my body looks best in dresses," I told her.

"I like you in suits," she replied.

"I hate the way I look in suits," I said.

When I come home I'll help you shop, she told me. Which was sweet and I need her help, but that was not a resolution for the moment. I hung up the phone with her and tried on yet another dress that was enough to make me call it quits.

And I left the store empty handed, thinking all the way home about what I could work with in my closet and wishing I had the time to drive to my sister's house to raid hers.

I think I've finally decided on a button down and slacks, sans the suit jacket. Because, again I hate the way I look in suits. And how I feel about what I see will matter just as much as what they see at first glance tomorrow.

And after I get myself an internship, I'm going shopping for dresses.