Being Jewish brings with it many burdens (the guilt! the guilt!), not the least of which is having to mark not one but two new years (the regular January one, and Rosh Hashana), which means not one but two sets of resolutions to break and feel guilty about later.
It’s good to have resolutions large and small to cover all aspects of your life. I mean, sure I have big resolutions that involve vowing to be a better person, one who smiles and says ‘excuse me’ to the fellow subway passenger with her bag on a seat rather than one who gives the scowl of death and wishes she had one of those handbags that is also a set of rings that is also a weapon until said passenger sheepishly moves her bag (even though it is COMPLETELY against New York City subway etiquette to have your bag on a seat during rush hour when people are STANDING, I’m just SAYING.).
What I’m getting at is that I like to start the new year with some smaller resolutions as well. Not personality-changing ones, necessarily, but sartorial ones that will make getting dressed in the morning more efficient and pleasureable; resolutions that will keep me from spending money on things I don’t need, while helping me enjoy the ones I already have.
So here, in no particular order, are my top Rosh Hashana resolutions, Crisis in Denim style:
1. I resolve to go shopping in my closet. There’s some nice stuff in there. I’m thinking in particular of a black Three Dots tunic that I’ve probably only worn about half a dozen times. This is the season I will find the perfect black leggings to go with it and have myself a whole new outfit.
2. I resolve to be honest about what no longer fits. I have a lot of grand plans about exercise. Even if I’m never going to be standing on a podium wearing that cute gray Olympic jacket like swimmer Missy Franklin or the Fab Five gymnasts, I could still push myself harder. And when I do, even the clothes that are too tight now will be too big so I’ll have to get rid of them anyway. How’s that for positive thinking?
2a. This goes for shoes, too. In New York, honoring your feet is imperative. Some of my favorite shoes have doubled in price if you factor in the amount I’ve spent on bandaids in order to wear them. Arriving somewhere late, and hobbling, is no fun.
3. I resolve to be honest about what is no longer in style. Yes, I dropped almost $200 on a pair of Goldsign jeans, saying I would wear them for years. Well, I wore them for years. But now they make me feel like I’m stuck in 2005. That was a good year, but its fashions are over.
4. I resolve to stop hanging onto clothing for sentimental reasons. It’s thoughts such as “But this is the sweater I bought on vacation with my ex and it’s the last romantic vacation I’ll probably have in my entire life how can I throw away the one tangible item that proves it actually happened,” that land you on reality TV shows about spinsters buried under a billion pounds of their most beloved possessions.
5. I resolve to focus some of my materialistic tendencies on apartment therapy. I don’t know about you but I find I am either jonesing for new clothes, or I could care less about my clothes because all I want to do is redecorate my apartment. But then I freak out because redecorating is such a HUGE, expensive commitment, whereas buying a $30 blouse can’t set you back too much. But my apartment could use a bit of a spruce, so I have to take the plunge.
The resolutions are all way easier said than done. But if I mess up on my Rosh Hashana resolutions, there’s always December 31st when I can just try again.