I bought Style Statement as the ultimate lifestyle guide/workbook.  Danielle LaPorte and Carrie McCarthy put a lot of time and effort into this book and gal pals raved about it.  Nothing but glowing reviews and two-word revelations about how people I knew had found their true selves.  So when I became so suddenly unemployed, I thought, “Let’s give it a try!”  I wasn’t sure where I was headed or why… and I was hoping this book would put that all into perspective.

I sat down with the book and a notepad, and diligently followed a few of the exercises.  Was I “this” or “that”?  Was I “matte” or “glossy”?  Was I “round” or “square”?  How do I feel in a bookstore?  How do I spend my free time?

As I wrote, I began to notice that I was writing the same things over and over – not one or two words, but whole lists of words written out like punishment on a chalkboard.  Soon enough, I stopped writing.  I would gloss over the questions, and read others’ responses.  Playful Casual… I liked the sound of that.  Dramatic Contemporary… I like the sound of that!  Cultivated, Magic, Frivolous, Vintage, Connected, Cherished, Feminine, Cosmopolitan, Treasure, Vibrant, Curated…  Full-time Dreamer.  Motherfucking Starchild Odyssey.

And as so many of these words kept popping up, I realized that I just like words for words, and that I couldn’t boil my life and experiences down to just 2 words.  Sometimes I feel like Cultivated Magic.  Sometimes I feel like Connected Treasure.  Sometimes I feel like Frivolous Vintage.  I looked at my closet, I looked at my house.  I looked at my art, I looked at the treasures I collect.  I looked at these little slices of my life and all of them were different, and intertwined and just as much a part of me as the next.

At this point, I haven’t been able to nail down two words that define me.  80% here, 20% there.  I haven’t been able to hit that magic number and I think it’s because I often feel like I’m more than a ratio.  The whole “trying to fit my existence into two words” felt a little like surpressing all the other words I wanted to or could possibly be.  And I know that that’s the point – once you figure out those magic two words, your life falls into place, you realize who you are and what path you’re on and all the sudden the Universe magically opens and you can rename your blog and your cat and your purpose in life.

Unless you’re like me… in which case, all of that happens without having just two goddamn words.

I have to give it to Style Statement’s authors.  They genuinely made me think, and I’m not sorry I bought and read over half the book.  And I think someday, I’ll probably plow through the rest and realize what I’ve been missing. Eventually, maybe, I’ll find that magic definition (Ooh… that’s a good one, right?  Magic Definition?!) that I can’t quite nail down because my brain is a maze of letters and pictures and stars and numbers.  I tried so hard to want one of these statements but the Childlike Wild-Thing (Is that one?  I dunno… I think that’s 3 words) inside me cannot commit to one set of ideas.  Objets Magiques, Strange Treasure, Random Clarity… my brain fills up with all the words I could be – words just spilling right out of my ears, there are so many – and somehow I’m comforted in knowing that somewhere inside my head I’m already defined.

As my Notes from the Universe said the other day: “Insisting on details, Birdie, always limits you.”