So Long to My Year of Style

If you saw what I’m wearing right now, you’d be rightly skeptical to hear I’m in the final weeks of my Year of Style. From the outside, you might guess that 2023 was my Year of Sucrose or my Year of Blathering. But no, it was my Year of Style, and, on the whole, I think it’s gone quite well.

Last December I ran into this video by CGP Grey, called “Your Theme,” wherein Gray makes the case that resolutions are regret recipes, and themes are where it’s at. Instead of setting goals and failing to meet them, you give yourself a gentle compass. Your theme becomes a guide, pointing out paths you might have missed. You dedicate a chunk of time to that theme, and you see what happens. You can’t fail at a theme. It just is.

It won’t surprise you that I tend to live in my head, whether in a story, or a line of code, or a daydream. I’m tempted to forget I’m in a body, and my body is someplace: in a room, at a desk, in the car, wherever. And that’s a sad thing, because I like my body. It’s quirky and capable and fun to spend time with. I always mean to give it nice things to wear and a likeable space to inhabit.

Meanwhile, in my mid-forties, the urge to become somebody in particular, rather than just somebody, feels urgent. So I named this year my Year of Style.

I expected to end my Year of Style with a bunch of finished art and a pair of fashionable shoes. Instead, I did—this. This Ostrich situation. Which is not what I expected, but it suits me quite well.

Other discoveries from my Year of Style:

• Cool-guy sunglasses. You put them on, and people treat you like a cool guy. Instantaneous charisma, and all it costs is money!
• Fountain pens. What could be more tycoon-punk than a fountain pen? The answer is nothing. I’ve found my people, and my people are pens.
• Copper rivets. I learned how to peen copper rivets, and now I can use “peen” in polite conversation. Need a rivet peened? I’ll peen it right up.
• Area rugs. I have big plans to turn my bedroom office into the ultimate tycoon study. With my Year of Style ending, I’m worried I might not finish it. All I’ve done so far is to buy a desk and a rug. The desk doesn’t care whether I finish the work or not, but the rug cares. It draws me into its hypnotic pattern and tells me I must not fail!

My larger discovery was a disappointing one. When I started asking myself “what would improve the vibe here?” The first answer wasn’t “a stolen Caravaggio,” as I was hoping. It was “fix the door that’s been broken for a decade.” Style, it turns out, is largely about keeping things in good repair, which is hard news for the likes of me. My Year of Style was less an experiment in white belts than a time to rearrange the furniture, get rid of old shirts, and actually fix shit I’ve been avoiding for years.

Regardless, my theme stuck with me, all through the year. I’m even tempted to make 2024 a Sequel to the Year of Style, but I won’t. In fact, I don’t think 2024 will be my Year of Anything. A year is a long time to keep a theme sharp. Instead, I’m going to set myself a winter theme, and change it in the spring. And that’s why I mention it now. The winter solstice is next week. (I know!)

I have a few ideas for my winter theme, and they all scare me, which probably means I’m on the right track. Whichever one I choose, I’ll announce it here, for the sake of accountability. If you like the idea, you have until the 22nd to choose your winter theme. I recommend Gray’s advice to pick a theme that’s “broad, directional, and resonant.” If you do, I’d love to hear about it. Send me a note or leave a comment, and we can goad each other on.