I was on the 2016 KPY retreat and I suddenly remembered how, as a kid I used to love to play with Barbie dolls: I would come-up with a story line — Barbie the doctor who saves lives, Barbie on beach vacation, Barbie the princess going to a ball to meet her prince — and then I would dress-up the Barbie dolls to fit the story, to become the characters. Each article of clothing I put on a doll was significant, each item and accessory was essential to my tale. When the story was over, I would undress the Barbies to put them away; naked they were uninteresting to me, each doll the same as the next.  Of course, like most kids, I hit an age where Barbies no longer appealed to me and the dolls went into the give away pile with a bunch of other toys.

Now though, I realize I never really did grow out of playing Barbie, its just that as I got older, I became the doll. I look back on my life and see distinct phases, distinct identities, distinct Alanas, all made ‘real’ by the clothes. 

• In college I had all my torn jeans and hippy shirts, I was a free love, liberal Alana trying to fit in and hide my true ‘trust fund hippy’ identity
• Once I graduated and got my first job it was all sacks and cardigans, a sexy librarian look for this young career woman
• After moving to Cali I had to ditch the conservative Texas look to fit-in, so it was all hipster tees and logo sweats to fit in with the new chill California Vibe.
• Until of course I started noticing my body changing, looking older, rounder, saggier and I knew it was time for a refresh so it was boots to make me badass and skirts to make me sexy, but age appropriate, to combat the loss of youth
• As I got wealthier, the clothes got fancier and it was all about the purses and shoes and jewelry to show my financial success
• But then the effort of it all became overwhelming so in with the simple black dress wardrobe for a chic but sensible Alana

With each new phase, the old clothes ended-up in the give away pile. Easy as pie, I never needed to give it a second thought. Some clothed had grown too worn. Some I had been so afraid to ruin by wearing, so almost new they went into the give away pile. Some clothes stopped fitting my body, others were back-up purses and shoes, that I never got around to; just-in case items where the case to wear them never arose before my new style was born. Each item I once saw as precious, as essential to fulfilling my identity as someone who fit in and had desirable qualities (like smart, sexy, bad-ass, sensible), all so easily discarded and replaced. I realize, that just like Barbie dolls, Alana without her belongings is boring, hard to create a story for, my imagination (#4) needs my stuff. Now suddenly, I saw so clearly why Mae Yo always said to use self belonging to get at self.