I don't wanna look like you. In fact, I want to be able to say, when someone asks "where'd you get that", that I got it at a thrift store. In a different city, preferably. That it's from a brand they don't know, or from years ago, and they can't have one just like it.
Is that selfish? Narcissistic? I don't think so. I take pleasure in knowing no one can look exactly like me, just like I take offense when I see people looking the exact freaking same. Why would you want to look like anyone but yourself?
Except, in order to look like yourself, you first need to know what you yourself like to wear.
I like loose clothes. Obsessively. Perhaps too much so. I like bright colors and funky patterns and childish designs. Because I'm also too loud and a little childish. We work together well. I spent a good part of my youth trying to dress fancy. Not all the time, but on occasion. On a date, or when attending an event.
Some of my worst days (in terms of looks) were when I tried to look good. How mean is that?
See, I had this idea in my head that we dress well, we "make an effort" when attending something important. I don't mean like weddings or whatever. I've only ever been to one and that was when I was 5 or something, so I don't know what I'd wear. I hope my friends never get married or don't like me enough to invite me.
But I mean like the theater or the opera or, as I said, a date or something. You'd dress up. Except that gravity must've been skewed for me. The moment I started layering on the make-up, burning my hair in an attempt to make it sit a certain way, and squeezing myself into tight, form-y clothes, I'd start feeling so damn ugly.
I felt ugly.
No way around it. I felt like a joke. A fraud. Like everyone could see straight through me to the loud clown inside who didn't really understand the diagrams for applying contour or bra sizes and always looked a little uncomfortable.
Gradually, I started breaking with that. Got to saying screw it and wearing what I felt like, the clothes I liked. The old clothes. The cheap ones from thrift stores. The ones with holes in them. I stopped doing my hair and for a while, my make-up.
I did start accessorizing. Which is my all time favorite "weapon" for creating your unique style. People mistakenly focus all their attention on getting the right clothes. It's not it, though. It's a great trick for minimal holiday packing, too, because you can get 3 different outfits out of the same dress, for instance, depending on how you accessorize and do your hair. Great space-saver, that.
I don't go without the bracelet. It's not gold or anything fancy like that. But it's from a small brand and has a personalized message on the inside. It's mine. It's me.
Accessories became that one thing without which I felt incomplete stepping out. It was fascinating to me how any dress or basic "low effort" outfit suddenly looked put together and a definite yes when accessorized right. Not even right. Correct for my personal style.
You know why? Because I looked like me. Not dressed up, down or sideways. I represented myself, and that looked good by default. I'm not saying I did. I'm saying anyone does. When the inside starts matching the outside, you're on a different level of put-together. It makes shit easy.
I also started embracing loose clothes. I'm lucky, that one is tricky and not everyone looks good in loose, oversized stuff, but thanks to my bone structure, I do. I've got a long body. Big shoulders. Looks terrific in big-ass shirts. Long bodies look amazing in long, flowy dresses, too.
I never felt that. I always thought dressing fancy meant dressing in a certain fabric, cut, and generally tighter, form-revealing clothes. I remember I was 18, wearing this flowy dress that embarrassed the hell outta me because I thought people would think I was fat underneath. It was also kinda low and I was a bit shy about my small boobs. I never got why people stared at me while I wore it.
Now I do. It compliments my body, the length of it. Looks fucking majestic. I highly doubt anyone thinks I'm fat under it and I feel confident enough to go braless inside it all the time. People still stare at me a lot when I wear it. I wore it just last night while hanging at the local watering hole with a friend. It wasn't dressing up, though it could easily be. It was a comfortable dress, I felt great in it, and I'm sure I looked good too inside it.
I think basically, you look your best in the clothes you feel your best in. I feel my best in loose clothes. In clothes that didn't cost a fortune and are ideally thrifted because I'm clumsy and trip or get it caught under me and tear it or whatever other freak accident. I don't want to be responsible for money I haven't got. I feel good in clothes that are unique and bright and quirky, 'cause they mesh with the music in my ears. In comfortable shoes and funky accessories.
Those were the two big "game-changers" for me, in terms of fashion. I realized the above and started dressing in things I enjoyed wearing. And I started accessorizing. It was a process of stripping down to essence and only keeping the things (be they skirts or earrings) that only resonated with me as I perceived myself and wished to be in the future). It came pretty easy after that.
Written for #StylishSaturday. You should, too. Feel good about yourself. Tell us why you look your best. It's a fun exercise.
