Because the previous post made me think of this and because I needed an excuse to use the word “sartorial”.
1. Fear of being noticed
2. Fear of not being noticed
3. Desire to not look like everyone else
4. Discomfort with looking too different from everyone else
5. Fear that styles I like will emphasize my physical imperfections
6. Worry that some of the fabrics and colors I like might be considered too little-girlish
7. Fear that people will think I’m “too dressed up”
8. Frustration that I never have any occasion to get dressed up
9. Annoyance at other people never getting dressed up even for what I feel are dress up occasions
10. Annoyance and puzzlement that most people seem to feel revulsion toward bright colors
11. Worry that people will notice all the little flaws and mistakes in the clothes I make
12. Annoyance at myself for not having the courage to be as daring as I want to be
August 11th, 2011 - 6:48 am
I used to FREAK OUT every time I got dressed, panicked by that damnable perfectionism to have everything I wore be PERFECT. Little did I know at the time that, being young and in relatively good shape, I could have worn anything and gotten away with it.
Then I reached the wide-spread (in all ways) joys of late middle age, the main one being you become invisible to everyone, because they’re all looking at the 20-somethings. Fashion freedom erupted.
I wear whatever I want, however I want to, secure in the knowledge that I could walk into a bank vault and out with the contents because the guards are watching the teller with the miniskirt. I might look like an explosion at the circus clown factory, but I’m comfy.
Yes, a long rant to justify my complete lack of fashion sense at this time.
Justification is MINE, sayeth the Cheesemistress.
PS… satorial is an awesome word. I’m going to use it today. Somehow.
August 11th, 2011 - 7:37 am
[sigh] I know. Sometimes I look at old pictures of myself and wonder why I ever thought I was fat and ugly. What a waste.
August 12th, 2011 - 8:41 am
As a male with an engineering degree I get up in the morning, grab whatever is handy and ask two questions :
1. Will the police arrest me for public indecency?
2. Will small children point and laugh.
If not I’m good to go.