An Epidemic of Compliments
Pumping ourselves up with positive reinforcement
I've always been a loud dresser — I’m attracted to bright colors, wild prints, and dramatic shapes. I like to layer contrasting prints and combine patterns — stripes on stripes, florals on cheetah, dots on plaids. Once, an old boyfriend was helping me organize my storage shed and popped the lid on a tote: “this one is full of... clown costumes?” Actually, reader, it was just my everyday clothes.
I have an affinity for any piece of clothing featuring: owls, snakes, hearts, robots, sheep, bright stripes, fluorescent colors, 90s spatter paint, bananas, muddy plaids, chunky lace, contrast or whip stitching, wild cats, lips, fruit, large buttons and gold embellishments like braid or epaulettes. ETC.
When I was in high school the local newspaper ran a story called “It’s our fashion, deal with it," about the very controversial grunge era we were living through. A full page of photos featuring yours truly accompanied the story (my after school job was as an ad designer for the paper). Although I was not grunge my clothing choices were unusual for the time (mid 90s) and the place (Nampa, Idaho): a black and gold Moroccan caftan (J. Peterman), a velvet toque (vintage), platform high-top sneakers (local skate shop), an orange leather trench with wide lapels, an a-line mini dress in a groovy marble print, 70s brown leather sandals with pop-out roller skates (all vintage) and a fleece jester hat with bells (okay, that was definitely a grunge accessory, probably purchased in Seattle, at a street fair).
During the pandemic I lost my fashion way — like many I was trapped at home, working from my couch, Zooming in my PJ pants. The only clothing feature I was concerned about — 2-way-stretch fabric. I also bought a lot of puffy things: the Amazon coat that was puffy with pockets (in a very un-me color, Army green), puffy Sorel boots with a giant cinching toggle instead of laces and puffy down slippers (at least those were in a floral print).
When we finally all started venturing out a bit my clothing was morbidly uninspiring: black leggings, neutral big shirts layered with giant soft colored cardigans, brown Dansko clogs. I had many conversations with Wren complaining about clothes, I didn't know what I liked anymore, what clothing was really "me", how to get back my individual style. It took years! I saw a picture of the actress Busy Phillips in a banana print dress which introduced me to Farm Rio. A search for utility jumpsuits led me to NooWorks. I recommitted to wearing my vintage Diane Von Furstenberg wrap dresses (stretchy) in tiger and lips prints, and got new Dansko clogs, in a charming paint-by-number print and a classic black and white polka dot. I was back, baby!
This past weekend Dave and I went to a couple of Spring Training games in Phoenix. When at the ballpark one must wear a ball cap so I pulled out my favorite Claire V. hat in yellow with bright red lips. The rest of my outfit was pretty uninspired — we'd been up since 3 am, on a plane and in a rental car for hours. And yet... at least 5 different people complimented my hat in the 3 hours we were at the ballpark. With each compliment I made eye contact with the complimenter and shared a smile. By the time we headed to our hotel I felt buoyant, connecting, even momentarily, with another human was invigorating. Yes, the warm Arizona sun probably also had something to do with it, but the compliments were the real warming thing — being seen, being acknowledged, that nod of approval from a stranger, then another, exponentially improved my day.
When we got to the hotel, another guest was checking in. She looked a bit frazzled but she also looked cheerful in a pair of electric blue pants. I complimented her, "cute pants!" and I could see her shoulders drop a little as we smiled at each other. I decided to “pay it forward” over the next few days: at the street fair I complimented a man on his chunky silver bracelet, at the restaurant I appreciated the hostesses perfect cat eye liner, and at the airport a counter agent and I connected over a two-tone purple water bottle.
As much as I love getting compliments, I think I like giving them more. Noticing something specific about a stranger and letting them know you noticed that thing, that they selected, they chose, they like, is uplifting for both people involved. Getting compliments reminded me of giving compliments — its contagious!
Your challenge: for the next 7 days, every single day, give a compliment to a stranger. The compliment should be about something that the person has control over, that they chose (ie: not their physical appearance). “I love the color of your eye shadow,” not “you have beautiful eyes.” Be genuine and sincere in your admiration. And, of course, you can give more than one a day if you’re so inspired, trust me, once you start looking for things you like about someone else, your eyes will suddenly find lots of things to like! This is a Group Challenge. And since practice makes perfect, next week we'll be using our complimenting skills in a Two-Gether exercise. Ready, set, compliment!