i found myself awake at 7AM on a Saturday and my body is still silently boycotting going back to bikram though i did think about it for a hot second.
so instead of schlepping my ass to class i found myself standing in the middle of a pile of my closet staring up at the wooden rod holding most of my clothing concerned that it’s bowing in the middle and there is a good possibility it could snap at a moment’s notice.
one moment i’m putting on deodorant and the next i’m tearing dresses off of hangers fearful that the whole rack could come crashing down.
it didn’t take too long before i realized i was knee deep in a sea of dresses and my closet looked like if the sale rack at forever 21 threw up all over the floor.
i remember the year i tried to be fancy. i was all kate spade purses and fancy boots. all it took was for my fancy wallet (my first ever non-hello kitty real adult wallet) to get stolen on the 21 fillmore to decide to un-fancy myself . i somewhat deserved it though. i was wearing a cargo skirt from my raver years as sort of a joke. PLUR was not alive and well on the bus full of miscreants heading towards the mission.
i decided that fancy wallets look like they have money in them and fancy shoes make you look like someone people would like to steal from so it would be old navy and flip flops for the rest of my life no matter how much money i made.
i had also stopped seeing the boy who was pushing me in the direction to dress more my age and station in life. he had convinced me that my successful career should reflect itself in my wardrobe.
but as i’ve noted before, i’ve never known how to dress myself.
my fashion history reads much like this:
catholic school uniform
thrift store men’s
amy ray of the indigo girls
emily saliers of the indigo girls
ill fitting old navy office friendly
workout clothes as everyday wear
in sorting out the piles this morning trying to figure out what to do with all my clothes i realized that these days i hover between yoga pants as work attire and cute $20 dresses from target’s junior section.
for someone who has never really thought too much about looking fashionable i sure do own a lot of clothes. enough that my closet may break.
this was a new revelation for me.
i still can’t pinpoint any particular whys on this situation but i did start to wonder about personal style and perception. while i love my penguin onesie and believe it speaks volumes about me while being one of the most comfortable articles of clothing i own, i do not wear it out or in my everyday life because i do not want to be mistaken for crazy eccentric onesie girl.
sometimes i feel like maybe i own too many things with peter pan collars that are maybe too young for me.
maybe i own too many workout outfits for someone who has only been to the gym twice this past month.
maybe i’m too short and wide to own as many horizontal striped tops and dresses as i do.
i have too many cutesy prints for someone my age.
really. i should take a pic of the small prints. unicorns, owls, foxes, cats, ducks, birds…
it’s a wonder anyone takes me seriously in my stretchy pants and bird shirts.
i’m not sure what to do with my current piles but i did make a ‘to sell’ pile thinking maybe i may need to purge.
what’s hard though is i’m not sure i want to purge this part of myself yet…or ever.
i should sleep on it. hormones and watching the entire first season of smash in 2 days have put me in a really strange headspace. i’ve also switched out coffee for tea and could be suffering form coffee withdrawl sweats.