I wish I could illegally download clothes from the internet. My outfit directly reflects how I’m feeling that day. Some days I revert to my more grunge-inspired looks; other days I dress it up and look like a functioning adult. And on down days I… well I’m just impressed that I can actually get dressed. It’s a monumental achievement, trust me.
I’ve never proclaimed to be wise when it comes to fashion. Perhaps it helps that I work in an industry where I need to know a fair bit about it, but over all? No. I’ve made some major faux-pas in my time – a lot of which there are photographic evidence of. I’m still scouring the internet frantically trying to erase them. I know talking about clothes is incredibly vapid, but I feel your outfit or style is a mirror of your personality. I like to be a bit edgy fashion wise; not always conform. Sure it does leave me a bit anxious and fearful of judgement, but it also gifts me with a sense of identity.
We live in a society where we judge someone purely on looks – as that’s what we tend to notice first, how someone looks. Be that on the internet (their profile picture) or if they are strutting down the street or perhaps in a bar or club; the first thing we take in is their appearance. How many times have you thought “What are those?!” when you pass someone? I’ve done it, and I don’t like myself for it. You know there are some people you see and think ‘Jesus, they look like they want to knock me out and drag me back to their lair.’ It’s a horrible trait to display, but we all do it.
Everyone should feel comfortable in their own skin, and that means being able to wear what they want without fear of mockery. But as a race that’s what we do, isn’t it? We judge. Even when giving or being given a compliment, we judge the person. Personally I can’t take a compliment. If you’ve ever seen a squirrel indecisively crossing a busy street, then you’ve seen me trying to take a compliment. My normal reply is ‘shut up.’ Imagine the most awkward thing you have ever experienced and it pales in comparison to me trying to take positive feedback or a compliment in person. If you’ve got something nice to say, then I’d rather you tweeted it.
That’s why I’m rather vain when it comes to my choice of clothes, or revamping my wardrobe. My outfit can be my armour and if I’m having a low day, I need all the protection I can get. You know how characters in a horror movie feel when the phone rings suddenly? That’s how I feel if I’m not comfortable with my choice of outfit. Image and presentation is everything; even if I’m feeling suicidal as long as I physically don’t reflect what I’m thinking, then that’s a win. And if fashion fails me then there’s always my phone. My iPhone has become less of a phone and more of shield from having to make eye contact with people.
I venture through every day as though it were April fools: Trusting nobody and with my guard up. Fashion and clothes help me do that; they help negative comments or looks (even the ones I simply imagine I’m being given) bounce right off me; they deflect the impact. Sadly, most people don’t understand this, but isn’t that the way of the world? The minority forever waiting on the majority to pull their head out their asses?