Feb 21, 2011


moto jacket, H&M.  rose jean leggings, Express.  scarf/knit gloves, Old Navy.  boots, Harley Davidson.

Photography by Jeremy Zerbe

This was probably one of the stupider outfits I could have been wearing in a twenty-something degree snowstorm; some sort of thin drapey sweater, noticeable holes indicative of its thrift store origins; a faux leather moto jacket, cheap-shit-hip thanks to H&M.  I added a pair of knit gloves, which helped but are never practical if a cigarette is involved, Bic lighter functioning, operating an iPod, pretty much anything involving hands is out of the question.  The scarf too, it has its drawbacks, snags on everything.  As with anything that resembles the softer side of Velcro, it’s attracted to everything burr-like, or zippers, unkempt fingernails, and rings shaped like snakes.  I’m really starting to wonder why I wear pain-in-the ass articles of clothing sometimes.  Why would I wear a pair of jean leggings that are difficult to remove and are meant to be difficult to remove?  Why wear a deep neckline bodysuit if I have to perpetually make sure that there’s no Janet style accidental exposure?  Why wear anything not warm enough or anything not chill enough or anything without pockets?  What exactly is the point of it all?

These are not questions that I always ask myself when I get dressed.  Sometimes I succumb to a uniform of sorts that shifts slightly depending on the weather and what I’ve got that’s clean.  Sometimes I literally do wear a uniform.  Sometimes my goal is only to avoid one color that day, or to wear a piece of jewelry from my sister, the rest doesn’t matter much.  All of these considerations, or lack thereof build some semblance of a style, a mish-mash of varying factors that rely heavily on mood.  It's a series of questions that range from ‘what’s the weather going to do by the end of the day?’ to ‘will I be able to slip this dress back into my sister’s closet before she gets home from work?’ to ‘am I going to run into that one obnoxious guy who only hits on me when I’m wearing red?’  The answers lead to style.  

Fashion, I’ve concluded is relative and in fact the clothes sometimes chose us.  You know that dress that looks absolutely ridiculous on the hanger, might involve a weird pattern or weirdly cut hem or strangely shaped neckline.  You put it on in some florescent-lit fitting room as a joke.  You’ve got every intention of walking out into the store and showing your friend how absolutely garish and disgusting it is and low and behold, you look back at yourself in the full length mirror, and you look damn good.  You buy the formerly ugly garment and it becomes your favorite for a few months.  It gets looped into a cycle of favorites, takes a break when you’re not going out as much, or when the weather turns it inappropriate.  Might get lost in the bottom of your closet during a period when you have no time to keep such things organized.  One day when you find the time to dig through the hanger droppings in your closet, the piece resurfaces and you might question it again.  The questioning leads to an instant desire to know what it looks like.  You try it on again, and fall in love again.  Fashion is relative to the questions you ask.

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Diary of a Short Girl said...

Love your rose print jeans!! Great post!


Anonymous said...

haha don't wear my dresses that i bought while in high school! it's a trap!

i'll dig through YOUR closet hanger drippings..... uh oh

nice post though


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