Yesterday, I saw a girl wearing bright yellow ballet flats.
It looked really cute, especially because the rest of her outfit, being rather unremarkable, was made completely eye-catching and expressive by these two cheerful feet. My first thought was how cool that was. My second thought was that I would never think to do that.
Thing is, I kind of like fashion. Not in the magazine-runway-designer way; I mean the oh-look-what-she-has-on kind of way. Although maybe like isn't so much the word as admire: I enjoy observing how people decorate themselves, and am kind of envious that I don't have the same effortless ability. I only just recently bowed to the skinny-jean trend, probably on the same vague impulse that propelled me to stop wearing them somewhere around 1994: the small part of my brain devoted to not looking ten years out of date was finally visually prodded enough to passively follow along with my age group.
Tempted as I am to claim that this is due to occupying some lofty plane above such petty considerations (you know, contemplating the cosmos with Carl and all that), the fact is, I'm just lazy and broke. And unadventurous, too, as a result.
See, it's hard enough work finding just one piece of clothing or shoes that do the job and look halfway decent. Maybe if I had the time -- or, well, okay, if I chose to spend the time -- to shop endlessly, I'm sure I'd find more stuff. Which would promptly be out of style again 18 months later, and I'd be back to shopping for more stuff. (This is where the money part comes in.) It just seems like the constant effort involved outweighs any impulse I have to decorate myself beyond the bare minimum. I have a belt, I have a pair of pumps. Why do I need a bunch of different kinds?
Of course this means I'm also not terribly experimental -- if I do find something, and spend my limited cash on it, it's got to be useful with more than one outfit (sorry, bright yellow flats).
All of which leaves me with a closet full of relatively neutral colors in what I think are nice cuts and fabrics. And I feel comfortable and put-together, until I go out with my friend Nadja, who has cleverly matched her lipstick to her pearl-pink jacket and looks like a million bucks. Or I have a date with my boyfriend, and go to find something pretty and eye-catching to wear and the best I can do is Librarian In Heels.
I guess this all pretty trivial, not to mention exactly like complaining you don't have awesome triceps when you're not willing to put in the time and effort to attain them. I just wish it was equally as unimportant to my boyfriend. Of course he's subtle about it; but I can't help cringing just a little when he comments, with a halfway-pleading look at me, how cute and feminine that girl's painted toenails look peeking out of her summery sandals, and I realize I don't even own any nail polish. (Because then I'd have to, you know, paint my nails! And it would chip off, and I'd have to paint them again. You see??)
Sigh. Bert would have noticed the yellow flats, too.
Maybe I should become a software engineer like my sister, where you're looked at fish-eyed if you do more than make sure your company logo tee is clean and free of noticeable holes.
4 comments:
But you got a really cute skirt yesterday. It is def not librarian in heels!
I have very mixed feelings about the whole personal decoration issue. Mostly I think it's a waste of time versus so many other worthwhile things one could be doing. That $30 to buy another interesting article of clothing could feed a starving 3rd world child for a month, or buy another textbook for an American kid in a poor school, or go to some human rights group to keep political prisoners from being tortured. When you think of it that way, it's hard to defend living any way but as simply as you reasonably can.
Maybe I've gotten complacent and too used to comfort, but I can't think like that too much - I like my indulgences and decadence. So that's not really the reason for me - I put it as a bad use of time and effort against things like enjoying the wonders of nature kayaking on a dazzling glassy stream, or making a lovely breakfast, or just enjoying another episode of classic Trek cuddling on the couch. I'm not being anything like lofty, just satisfying my own personal notions of hedonism.
I rarely even notice what people are wearing, but then, I am surrounded by people in the informal tech uniform (at best I notice if the t-shirt is something funny or clever, like one the other day: "Lutefisk: It'll put the fear of cod into you!") But sometimes I see people who've done a striking job of decorating themselves and wished I had such originality, without really giving it much more thought because I know I wouldn't be willing to spend that much time shopping (I don't even like shopping, especially not for clothing) nor money. But still, a few of those looks are really good, and if they impress somebody as oblivious as me, surely they can't be without value to all the people who see them.
But I am at one of those software places, and even wearing a plain skirt gets a bunch of comments like "what's the special occasion?" I suppose I also have bad associations with it being misinterpreted since I was probably overdressed on some previous outings which were then unintentionally interpreted as dates... hmm... now this has me thinking...
Oh, and one more thing about mixed feelings about clothing: it at once should be meaningless and completely practical covering, and the only part of your outward appearance you have complete control over - so why shouldn't it be interpreted as a reflection of your choices? I don't really like that, but it's hard to get around.
okay, you'll have to imagine the deep southern accent, because I can't seem to spell it and make sense at the same time: "....Aftah all, what separates us from the animal kingdom is our ability to accesorize!" --Olympia Dukakis' character in Steel Magnolias
:-)
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