I will be the first to admit that I have very little style sense. I am a jeans and t-shirt girl at heart. I was a toughskin* wearing, tennis shoe loving tomboy as a little girl. This continued on into junior high and high school. Dresses were rarely worn. Any attempt to 'pretty me up' was met with scorn. With the exception of first grade, when I had an ankle length green dress with like a white pinafore and at the bottom of the apron was a red rose. I LOVED that dress. Very Little House on the Prairie. I digress. As an adult, I have a difficult time putting together outfits that aren't completely hideous. I really need Garanimals** for grown-ups. And I can freely admit this. I look at some people and the pieces they've put together to make a smashing outfit and realize I don't have either the sense to pick those 3 pieces nor really the flair to pull it off. Michelle is my predominant assistant in finding clothes that aren't hideous. For Christmas or my birthday I convince family to send money or gift cards and Michelle & I shop for the year's clothing. This is a system that works for me and since Michelle tolerant of my quirk so that helps too. I think she really just likes telling me what to do and having me do it. :) My bottom line for clothing is comfort. Unlike Michelle, I will not "suffer for my beauty." Today one of my Brownies criticized my ensemble. Apparently lavender and black do not go together in her world. Last week pink and black didn't go together either. Sigh. :) Matty criticizes my clothing all the time too, but I ignore him. Because although he may be periodically right (notice I didn't say always), I don't know that a notstraight boy can really speak to what appeals to straightboys in terms of clothing. (which I'm well aware that Matthew will refute vehemently in the comments section...)
*For those unfamiliar with the brand Toughskin, these were jeans sold at Sears that had reinforced fronts of the legs. Because of that extra layer of denim, when first purchased they were extremely stiff. The extra panel ran from about mid thigh to about mid shin. Hypothetically the extra layer made it difficult to wear holes in the knees, I still managed it.
**For those unfamiliar with Garanimals, this was a children's clothing line that made matching clothes really easy. They all had tags with animals on it. You matched a shirt and pants like Tiger/Tiger and hypothetically it all matched. I had those as a child, I think I blame them for my lack of matching ability.
6 comments:
Clothing is not one of the areas in which you must endure suffering for the sake of your beauty. Waxing, plucking, cutting, dyeing, shaving and other grooming - those are the areas that cause suffering.
I wore Toughskins too. My mom worked for Sears and they were the only ones that she could find in "slim" because I was a bean pole in an earlier life....it was funny to wear those pants that wouldn't bend at the knee for about a month.
I used to get dressed in my room and then come out and ask my mom if I matched. Usually she said no, and then I would head back for another attempt. Eventually either she gave up and said yes, or I did it right and got the nod of approval...who knows.
I also had a favorite "Little House on the Praire" dress when I was small, 1st and 2nd grade I think. It had puffy white short sleeves and an attached white apron in front. I loved the hell out of that dress, wore it all the time.
I can't do scarves. Some people look natural wearing them; I feel like an affectation.
I pretty much pair anything with black. I own at least 6 different black skirts and all sorts of solid color tops.
It might be boring, but it works.
i cannot acessorize to save my life. i hate having to think about what i am wearing. i show up to work in jeans and a tshirt (or sweater) and i am happy as a clam.
i am wearing a dress for the wedding. but i am not wearing girly shoes. i am wearing wrestling-type running shoes, yo!
hmm... not only can i not accessorize, i apparently can't spell it either. :)
You may be the first woman in history who resists taking fashion advice from a non-straight man.
Merde.
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