Sunday, April 8, 2012

I don’t write about my personal style, because I don’t have any. Wait, someone who loves clothing as much as I surely must put time and effort into dressing to thrill, right? No. In fact getting dressed is such a challenge I once showed up for work wearing two different shoes. My first job in sales was at Bonwit Teller and the store would organize fashion shows to demonstrate how we should dress to properly represent the Bonwit image. These shows were like a live “Glamour Do” and “Glamour Don’t” page with both girls on the cat walk at the same time. Sort of like Goofus and Gallant of the runway. The employees were the models and once I was asked to participate. I was picked to wear a nice pastel skirt suit, and my “don’t” counterpart wore one of my typical outfits—including a pair of self made oversized earrings they had borrowed from me, and that I considered part of my ‘look’.What? You thought girl bullying stopped at graduation? You thought wrong.

I thought there was something wrong with me, until I found this post on Fashion Incubator.

You don’t know this yet so I may as well tell you; I don’t like clothes. For the most part. Actually, I don’t like going through the bother of acquiring them via shopping or sewing. I’d rather prefer that they grew on bushes and one could snag what’s needed in passing. The clothing I like best are items that miraculously appear. A friend mailed me a pair of cover-alls that he found in his dumpster and I wore them for years. Anyway, while my views are extreme, you’ll find that garment industry people largely do not care about clothes. We are the first to cheerfully agree that we are the worst dressers. There is a reason (!) that some design houses semi-dictate the wearing of either all white or all black. It’s because the designer knows we’re such losers taste-wise, that we need some sort of fashion guidance. I swear. All of the garment industry people are laughing themselves sick at this point because they can’t believe I had the nerve to say that. I wish you could hear them.

I read this, laughed out loud, and felt a bit less like a misfit. 

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