To achieve ‘effortlessly elegant’ in her flower garden, she found a perfect example

Life is full of mysteries, and one that’s always occupied a little space in my brain is how some women always manage to look effortlessly elegant. I’m in my sixth decade and I’m still trying to work out how this is possible. To date, the only explanation I’ve come up with is sorcery.

I had an effortlessly elegant sighting yesterday at the garden center. I was pondering mulch, because choosing a type of mulch is a decision that requires deep thought. Dakota black, java brown or cedar: One bad mulch choice and you have flower beds that have gone from yay to nay.

Just as I’m thinking Dakota black is the way to go, I see a woman who appears to be a smidge older than me carrying a fern, and she’s a vision. Not only is she incredibly graceful but her total aura is one of perfection.

She’s swathed in a pacific blue linen blouse and white pants that seem to be ethereally draped on her body. Her hair is cut in a bob with such precision that every single strand sways in perfect unison when she walks.

It’s a warm afternoon but this woman has a glow that’s not from the sheen of excessive perspiration. My only guess is that she’s using unicorn serum or something else unworldly because, well — how does she look that good?

As I stare at her I take a brief moment to reflect on my appearance. I’m wearing what I call my “yard leggings.” They’re dirt-stained and the Lycra in them gave up years ago. They’re now so baggy that the crotch of the leggings is inching toward mid-thigh.

My T-shirt is worn out and has some bleach stains from a power washing incident. But the worst part of my “outfit” is the accessories. I’m wearing a thick terry cloth headband and wristbands that would make ’70s tennis sensation Björn Borg proud.

Trust me, it’s not a style choice. It’s a “keep the sweat laced with SPF 70 sunscreen out of my eyes” choice. As for the wrist bands I really have no excuse. They came with the headband and I thought, why not.

I’m mildly embarrassed about my appearance. But I’m at a garden center and I look like someone who’s been digging in dirt and will be going home to resume digging in dirt.

Also, and perhaps more importantly, the gift of being effortlessly elegant has never been bestowed on me.

But none of that dampens my appreciation for this woman’s vibe, and this is why I begin to follow her through the garden store. You may call it stalking but I call it research. How do women like this exist?

I discreetly followed her through the annual flowers then to the perennials where she studied the caladiums and finally back to where I started: the mulch.

As she stood there I got closer to her and asked her if she had a favorite kind of mulch. I told her I was leaning toward Dakota black. She turned and looked at me and before I knew what I was doing I nervously used my left wrist band to wipe my nose.

This made her smile (or was it a grimace?) and she said, “Better to go with java brown. It’s a classic,” and then she meandered away.

Was that her secret to being a style icon at the garden store? Embrace the classics?

Probably not. It has to be immensely more complicated than that. But I will say the java brown mulch she recommended has made my flower beds look effortlessly elegant.

Reach Sherry Kuehl at snarkyinthesuburbs@gmail.com, on Facebook at Snarky in the Suburbs@snarkynsuburbs, on Instagram @snarky.in.the.suburbs, and snarkyinthesuburbs.com.