Dressing From the Floor
by Mary Leonard

In my daughter's adolescent years, she threw her clothes all over her room and it seemed as if we were in constant warfare. I would yell from the doorway: "You have to pick up your clothes, I can't stand it anymore, your room smells like a locker."

She was always sweet, "I'll get to it mom," but another week would go by. When she didn't get to it, and I was beyond pissed, I would swoop down and tidy up. The aftermath was never satisfactory because I ruined her order, invaded her privacy and mixed the dirty with the clean. And she would make me feel guilty: "I told you I would get to it mom! Now I can't find anything."

This past week I have learned from my daughter. I dressed from the floor. I came off a week of spinning new technology with a brain that doesn't take to it: RSS feeds, audioblogs, alphasmarts, document cameras, hypertext-—a swoosh of the unknown. One of these days I would love it if these techie geeks would forget about cyberspace and invent a computerized butler: "I have prepared the black pants, the maroon linen jacket and white tee as requested." Now, that would be useful technology!

Since we have not advanced to that stage, and instead are hovering relentlessly in cyberspace, I decided that I was not going to think about anything when I got home from work. Those black pants I wore on Monday lying in a heap near the window, would look fine with the green jacket on the doorknob. All my jackets go on the closet's doorknob, layers of linens and wools and denim, but skirts, pants, and shoes are tossed in some expressionistic sculpture on the floor.

In this day of wrinkled linen and synthetic fabrics that don't wrinkle, my habit of undressing and leaving clothes in a heap can be supported. One friend with the same habit said that she takes off her black pants and they fall into two round circles on the floor. In the morning she steps into those two circles and she is ready to go. Why waste time hanging up what you will only wear the next day? I don't think anyone will whisper, "She must dress from the floor!" when I arrive at work. They may well whisper, "Same earrings—have you noticed all week she has worn those sparkly orange things?" (I pick them up from the table by the TV on my way out.)

The thought of dressing from the floor may make some women shout disgusting, but really, nothing is dirty, no crusty pizza, or coffee stains. My floor is cleaner than my closet, and if the pants are really wrinkled, I will confess my trick: I put them in the dryer on low with one Bounce sheet. Voilà. Prèt à porter.

Look, I am interested in some time to relax in the evening and not in laying out my clothes. I recline in front of the TV and let my husband operate the technology, swishing thru commercials of our taped favorites. After all we do have DVR. I can definitely appreciate technology when someone else is holding the remote. Dressing from the floor—well maybe I will start a blog and see what others think. But meanwhile, a motto I have stolen from a young friend: when in doubt, wear what you wore yesterday, it got you through that day, so why not this one?

Mary Leonard is a teacher and writer who lives in Kingston.