I Wore Black to Work for 7 Years (Funeral Home). Now Look at Me.

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For seven years, I wore black to work.

Not because I loved it. Not because it suited me. Because I worked in a funeral home — and black was the uniform of the work. Professional. Respectful. Subdued. Every day, I dressed for other people’s grief.

Seven years. That’s a lot of black. That’s a lot of quiet. That’s a lot of holding yourself together in rooms where falling apart was someone else’s right.

When I retired, I stood in front of my closet and realized almost everything in it was dark. Navy. Charcoal. Black, black, black. Clothes that were perfectly fine and completely wrong for who I was becoming.

So I started over.

What Seven Years in a Funeral Home Teaches You About Color

Working in a funeral home changes you in ways that are hard to explain to people who haven’t done it. You become very comfortable with things most people run from. You develop a particular kind of steadiness. You learn to hold space for other people’s pain without losing yourself in it.

You also learn — more viscerally than most people ever do — that life is short. Not as a bumper sticker. As a daily, undeniable fact.

I watched families say goodbye to people who had saved the good china for company that never came. Who had kept the pretty dress for a special occasion that never arrived. Who had spent decades being practical, being sensible, waiting for permission to enjoy their own lives.

I decided a long time ago that I was not going to be that story.

When I retired, the first thing I did was go buy something in the brightest, most ridiculous, most joyful color I could find. Burnt orange. A flowy top with embroidery along the hem. Nothing practical about it. Everything right about it.

Why Boho? Why This?

I didn’t sit down and decide to become a boho woman. It happened the way most true things happen — gradually, then all at once.

I bought one flowy top and it felt like breathing. I bought a kimono and suddenly every outfit made sense. I found a pair of turquoise earrings the size of small chandeliers and I wore them to the grocery store and a woman I’d never met stopped me to say I looked wonderful.

Boho style — hippie style, free spirit style, whatever you want to call it — is the visual opposite of everything my work wardrobe was. It’s color instead of black. Movement instead of stillness. Joy instead of solemnity. Loud instead of quiet.

After seven years of dressing for other people’s worst days, I am now dressing for my best ones. Every single morning.

The Pieces That Started My Color Revolution (All on Amazon)

I built this wardrobe from scratch in retirement, largely through Amazon. I want to share exactly what I found because if you have any version of a dark, practical, someone-else’s-rules wardrobe and you’re ready to blow it up — this is where I’d start.

1. The Kimono That Changed Everything

The kimono was a gateway piece. Flowy, colorful, completely unfussy. It layered over everything I already owned — even the black pieces I hadn’t let go of yet — and instantly transformed them. I have six now. I am not ashamed.

Look for: florals, paisleys, embroidered details, fringe hems. Earth tones — rust, terracotta, olive, mustard — or bold prints. Anything that would have been completely wrong for a funeral home is probably exactly right.

Search Boho Kimono Cardigan for Women on Amazon-gorgeous options available.

2. Statement Jewelry — The Louder the Better

I spent years wearing small, tasteful jewelry. Appropriate jewelry. Jewelry that didn’t call attention to itself in a room that required quiet.

I am now making up for every single one of those years.

• Chunky turquoise rings — wear three at once, no apologies.
• Layered beaded necklaces — multiple lengths, different textures, all at once.
• Long tassel or feather earrings — they move when I move. I love that.
• Hammered brass or copper cuffs — worn stacked up the wrist. Ancient and timeless.

3. Printed Maxi Skirts — My Uniform

The maxi skirt is everything a pencil skirt isn’t: free, comfortable, impossible to look serious in. I wear mine with a tucked linen top or a simple fitted tank. I wear them to the farmers market, on road trips, to dinner, absolutely everywhere.

Every print I choose is something I never would have worn to work. That’s my selection criteria now and it’s serving me beautifully.

Search “boho maxi skirt flowy printed” or “tiered maxi skirt women” on Amazon.

4. The Wide-Brimmed Hat

I never wore hats at work. Now I wear them everywhere. A wide-brimmed hat completes a boho look the way nothing else does — and it keeps the sun off my face, which is a bonus my skin is extremely grateful for.

Search “wide brim floppy sun hat women” on Amazon —they photograph like a dream.

5. Linen in Every Color I Was Never Allowed to Wear

Sage green linen pants. A dusty rose linen shirt. Wide-leg linen trousers in a warm cream. Linen is the fabric of a life lived unhurriedly, and it comes in every color that used to be off-limits.

Search “linen wide leg pants women” or “linen boho top” on Amazon — breathable, beautiful, and nothing like a funeral.

6. Fringe Bags and Woven Totes

My work bag was structured, sensible, and completely forgettable. My current bags have fringe and tassels and get compliments in parking lots. This is not a coincidence. This is a choice.

Search “fringe crossbody bag boho” or “tote bag with tassel” on Amazon — reasonably priced and endlessly versatile.

Dress Like You Know Life Is Short — Because You Do

Working in a funeral home was one of the most meaningful things I’ve ever done. I am proud of those seven years. I am grateful for what they taught me.

But the greatest lesson wasn’t about death. It was about life. About the people who waited too long to wear the color they loved. To take the trip. To buy the ridiculous earrings. To dress like the version of themselves they always meant to become.

I am not waiting anymore.

If you’re just getting started with boho style — or you’re deep in it and always looking for more — I’ve written a few more posts you might love: Boho Style After 60: Easy Everyday Outfits, Over 60 And Being A Hippie, and The Bags That Pull Everything Together (Without Trying Too Hard).

Tell me in the comments — is there a chapter of your life that shaped how you dress now? I’d love to know your story.