‘Black Skirts’ offers gentle advice for mid-20s’ turmoil

THREE BLACK SKIRTS: ALL YOU NEED TO SURVIVE, by Anna Johnson, 2001, Workman Publishing, New York, 204 pages, $13.95 softcover.

I was about 12 years old when my mother gave me a book called “Girltalk” by Carol Weston. It was one of those how-to guides to help girls navigate the hell that is adolescence. It covered all the topics a preteen girl definitely doesn’t want to ask her parents about: smooching, friendship troubles, all those weird body changes and, the clincher: sex. Until I discovered Cosmo, this book was the best thing going. Actually, at 12, I probably wouldn’t have understood half the advice in Cosmo anyway. “Girltalk” helped me make some sense of my constantly changing life, body and mind.

“Three Black Skirts” is like “Girltalk” for the post-collegiate set. For most of the young women I know, these years are no less horrifying than puberty. The body changes, the emotional turmoil, the sense of being lost – it’s all there. The worst part is, most of us thought we had this stuff all figured out years ago.

The mid-20s unfold in a similarly jarring sequence of events. First, you lose weight (less beer), then you gain it back (better food). You get a well-paying job and then spend everything you made, leaving you as broke as you were in college, except you no longer consider ramen noodles an acceptable meal. You make bad choices even though you know better. You fall in love only to screw it up, or you don’t fall in love at all and wonder why you can’t meet anyone decent. It’s a vicious, mind-twisting time that leaves many 20-somethings utterly confused.

Enter Anna Johnson, patron saint of the spunky-yet-misguided gal. In “Three Black Skirts,” Johnson covers all the topics that any woman over 20 wouldn’t dream of asking her parents about: dating fiascos, nutrition, entertaining, seduction, body issues, money matters and personal style, hence the book’s title.

Johnson’s prose is witty and wry. She readily admits that her life is not perfect – in fact, she only has two black skirts, but more on that later. The book has pizzazz. It’s lipstick pink, for starters, always a good sign. It has excellent illustrations throughout. It’s a book for the go-get-’em gal who needs a little get-up-and-go, whether she’s going to the gym or the office or the Cayman Islands with the hunk next door.

It’s a fun tome that reminds women not to let the little things, whether it’s a snag in plans or a snag in pantyhose, get in the way of embracing life. Rather than telling women how to live their lives, Johnson offers advice on how to restore balance so that one bad day doesn’t turn into a bad week.

“Strict dieting without exercise, exercise without rest, worry without sleep, sex without love, love without work, duty without fantasy, a slice of cheddar cheese without a Granny Smith apple – there’s just no point in striving for well-being without balance,” Johnson writes.

Sound familiar?

Rather than try to fix everything all at once, “Three Black Skirts” gives sensible advice that women can incorporate into their everyday lives: Get a toolbox and fix things yourself. Rather than own seven cheap suits, buy three high-quality ones. Stop eating pasta every night. The body you have now isn’t supposed to look like it did at 17 – give yourself a break. And by all means, get your finances in order.

I know, I know, it sounds like a fluffy little book, but the underlying message of self-sufficiency is anything but fluffy. This is not a book about how to find a husband. It’s a book about how to find your own life, whether that means fixing a toilet or cooking up a mean curry. It’s about finding your passion in work and in romance. It’s also about being realistic about your finances, your time management and your cash flow. The money section alone is worth the cost of the book. In all of the books I’ve read on personal finance, the sample budget in “Three Black Skirts” is the most realistic I’ve seen.

And then there’s the style advice.

“If I had to boil it down, my ideal wardrobe would pivot around three black skirts: one knee-length (and not waitress-tight), for work; one long and slinky, for seduction; and one short and stretch, for PMS bloat and pigging out,” Johnson writes. “Certain pieces anchor you.”

She gives ideas that will chic-ify even the plainest wardrobe. She offers help for the career girl whose work clothes are the same ones she used to wear out to the bars while in college. She guides those women who can’t seem to throw anything out, as well as the ones who will buy anything if it’s on sale.

“If you can’t see yourself in more than five completely different situations in an item, don’t buy it – unless it’s a G-string or a wedding dress,” she writes.

The one thing she doesn’t do is nag, because personal style is, well, personal.

If you want to wear a feather boa with a wool blazer, more power to you. As Johnson writes, individuality is the most stylish thing a woman can possess – even more ideal than three black skirts.