Sometimes I think my life would be easier if I lived in a community where everyone wore the same thing.
Like those women from the Zion Ranch.
They all have slight variations of the same brightly colored dress with the puffy sleeves. I know this because I watch Oprah (OK wait, in my defense I Tivo it and I laugh at her, not with her. Also, shut up). During one point in Oprah’s interview with the female Zion teens, she asked, “Why y’all dress the same?” And one of the girls said, “We don’t, our dresses are actually all a little different. For instance, my dress has [so and so minor detail] while hers has [other minor detail]. Sometimes we’ll say to each other, ‘I love your dress, where did you get it?'”. At this point Oprah laughed really hard, because, well, the question is silly. “Where did you get your dress?” “Oh I got it at this really neat little place — THE ONLY CLOTHING STORE IN TOWN.” “I love that place!”
Anyway. There almost IS a uniform for the young twenty somethings of my age, and that is American Apparel. I am certainly not above American Apparel, though just for fun I’ll get incensed over their prices, and stalk ebay for a better deal. But it’s all so predictable. Ex. If it’s a skirt from AA then it will usually be paired with a white tee, black tights, and either those fugly low-heeled oxford/jazz shoes or mile high heels. Large rimmed glasses are optional. But as I bemoaned in my last post regarding AA, when I go out I like to eat, and their material isn’t very forgiving.
(And by the way, what is so alluring about low-heeled oxford/jazz shoes? What asshole decided, “I feel like looking like the Grandpa from ‘Rugrats’ today” and made that an acceptable trend? Fuck me.)
BUT THAT’S NOT IMPORTANT RIGHT NOW.
Every day I try to feel inspired about my clothing. I’ll hunt the internet for fashion blogs. (The chick at leblogdebetty.com BTW is my fucking FRENCH DOPPLEGANGER I swear to God). But usually what happens is I’ll just grab whatever’s clean from my closet and wear that. I used to care about what I wore but then I got busy with life and somehow the clothes lost their way back in. I keep a folder on my laptop full of clothing inspiration. I have a scrapbook too. I am lame. But still I dress like someone who just doesn’t care.
Which means that when I actually have to get dressed for a specific event, I freeze. I used to intern for a certain legendary/eccentric producer at Paramount and even though I was but a lowly intern I was required to dress “nice”. No jeans. No flip-flops. Getting dressed in the morning was probably more stressful than managing Nicolas Cage’s career. I hated having to “dress nice”. And what is the big deal about jeans anyway? Most of my jeans cost more than my shoes. Let’s just say I relished working at Fox where the dress code was not draconian. Also that job was better. I was paid. BUT THAT’S NOT IMPORTANT RIGHT NOW.
What’s my point to all of this? you may be asking yourself.
I don’t have a fucking point.
I have a closet full of clothes, a good chunk of it American Apparel, and nothing to wear.
