Wednesday, May 4, 2011

Even Less-Forgotten Outfits

Today a random guy approached me just after we got off the bus and asked me what motivates me to dress the way I do, because he's noticed me before. Actually, I noticed him once before, too; it's hard to miss a bro who talks on his phone using a constant stream of slang as poorly as he does at about 100 decibels. 

Anyway, he noticed that I'm random and colourful some days and "punk rocker" on others, but that I "always do it well and no one else could pull it off", which has led him to believe that there's some deeper, intriguing dual personality at work, and that I'm some kind of "freak". He meant it sexually.

And while that isn't entirely untrue, I think this "bitch, please" face pretty much describes how I felt just then. Luckily I took a few pictures of myself making stupid faces last week and had this on standby for just such an occasion.

So even though I had just woken up after probably passing out on the girl next to me and sleeping like a brick for the duration of the ride, I quickly said: "There's no explaining it, bro. I do what I do."

Honestly I appreciate the compliment, but I don't know how to react to things like this. I know that Becca is my biggest fan and she embarrasses me nearly every day complimenting my outfits, bless her heart, and that I even met Carl because he noticed what I wear. Well, that and the fact that he was the only person around who hated Jan Brewer as much as I did at the time.

Almost everything I own is either second-hand or dug out of a clearance section somewhere, sometimes literally out of a bin in a dirty warehouse, though even then a lot of it is brand name because I've developed an eye for quality. I know that I started posting outfits on this blog but I've never thought they were brilliant or anything. I'm just working with what I have, and most days I throw on the first thing I see, which I may or may not have been sleeping on along with other random assorted objects.

To be honest on another front, I wish I looked like one of those model blogger girls, the Twiggy ones wearing super short shorts and crazy heels with cute little frilled socks: an Urban Outfitters catalog, basically.

At the same time, though, I know that's just not me, and that all of those girls look the same. I usually know exactly what's trendy but choose not to wear it if I don't like it and/or it's not flattering on me. That's the difference.

And really, none of it ever is anyway because it's made for girls shaped like a series of glued-together Popsicle sticks. I wish clothes would hang off me like like window treatments and that I didn't need to wear a bra, but hey, we always want what we don't have. Plus whatever's "in" is always too damn expensive. $38 for a blouse that's going to tear before I even put it on, are you kidding? It takes me months to get over spending that much on a textbook.


So this is the outfit in question. My shoes are flats, eyelet fabric with peeptoes and the same colour as the Stitch charm on my bag. My hairband is pink and purple ikat and more or less matches the dress, which is second hand, too big for me and originally from the GAP. My nails are leopard print falsies that I found on eBay for less than $2, and I used that cheap Nails brand brush-on glue from Walmart to attach them. I mention this because they've been on since Saturday night, which is a not only a new record for me but is especially amazing considering the fact that I don't remember most of Saturday night after possibly being drugged by a South African man.(Just kidding, apparently throwing a shot of SoCo on top of large quantities of vodka, gin, rum and tequila results in blacking out. Who knew?)

Anyway, this kind of thing only happens when I'm completely sure I look normal and boring. It's like when you think you're having the worst hair day ever, and people keep going, "Ohh, I love what you did with your hair today!".

I threw this on after getting less than 4 hours of sleep. Why were so many people (Becca and Loud Bro weren't the only ones) noticing it and even complimenting me? I have no idea, hence the "What the hell?" face. This isn't me fishing for compliments, either; I don't do that and have already mentioned that I barely know how to respond to them.

I guess the point of this post is really a clothing-based metaphor for life.

Why would you just wear a t-shirt, jeans and flip flops every day? The random stuff I wear works and looks decent because it's natural, and probably because I'm all about complimentary colours and repeating patterns. What you choose to wear every day - even if it's just an afterthought - is the most common and fundamental way you can express yourself as a human. Wander off the beaten path to find something that actually suits you and that you actually like; don't be satisfied with what giant retail chains throw in your face. Why would you give those jerks your money for some crap they had a team of 17 year-old girls sew together in China, anyway? Do what you like and like what you do, and do consider the appropriateness of your attire for certain occasions, but definitely don't give a fuck.