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My Fashion Mistake
A while ago, I lived with a lovely young girl named Natalie (speaking of, Natalie, your email account appears to been cancelled, so email me). I was sick one day and stayed home from work to laze about and watch television and screw around on the internet. I was cold and didn't have a clean sweatshirt, so I raided her wardrobe when she was at work looking for something to keep me warm (I swear I only did it once or four times). I flicked through her coathangers and found a really hideous purple chenille-like zip-up cardigan. It might have just been fake chenille, but really, does it matter?
So this cardigan became my "sick jersey". It became my comfortable ugly top I wore when my nose was running and my throat was as red as a fire engine. Natalie caught me wearing it one day, but was more worried that I'd found it myself in her wardrobe than actually wearing it, because as I said before, it was a monstrosity. Two Decembers ago, Natalie and I parted as flatmates, and as we were packing up, I found the cardigan in my bedroom. I tried to give it back to her, but she wouldn't take it. "You'll wear it", she said. So I took it.
I haven't really worn it that much in the last year, but I kept it because it was comfortable. I never wore it out of the house, and if someone was coming around, I'd usually change out of it because it was so damn ugly. However, yesterday, I broke the code. I wore it out of the house. But not only did I wear it out of the house, but I wore it to work. Don't ask me why I did this, but my only explaination is that I don't think too clearly at 7:45am.
It's rather dark when I leave for work in the morning, but when I get to work it is usually considerably lighter. As I walked the short walk between the carpark and my office, I looked down at my sweater and noticed something that I hadn't seen any of the times I'd worn it with the blinds shut and a blanket over my legs while I watched Oprah. If the colour purple was a primary colour, it would be the colour of this cardigan. And not only was it a horribly bright shade of purple, but it was chenille. Here I was, "Hip Cool Ani", walking down the street wearing a bright purple chenille cardigan with a zip. It appears that two weeks before my birthday, I have turned into my mother. You know you are turning into your mother when you start wearing your "around-home" clothes to work. (To make myself feel better, I am going to buy myself a new sweater. It is my birthday soon and I received an early present from Ben's mother which facilitates my need to expel the clothes-desperation which leads to wearing ugly clothes. I hope it works.)
My question is - why do I do this? I know for a fact I've done it before, and every time I say to myself, "I won't do it again!" I'm like a recovering drug addict, or a fat person who won't stop eating cake. Here I am with nice clothes in my wardrobe, yet I am compelled to march around in the ugliest possible items of clothing I can. There was the rather oversized jersey that looked like wholemeal toast incident. Then there were the gigantic bubble shoes that made me grow 5 inches. There was also the pair of brown and orange and cream patterned pants that were flared at the ankle and itched like hell. What was I thinking? (I could also say the same thing about Goth Ani, the Heavy Duty Makeup Ani, the Neon T-Shirt & Bike Pants Ani and the time when I was wearing extra large striped t-shirts. However, everyone was wearing striped t-shirts when I was 13, the neon colour phase was when I was really young, didn't know better and my mum bought my clothes, the hardcore makeup was just a phase I went through when I was in high school and I really was a cute, little goth.)
So here I am, in "the prime of my life" and suddenly I'm Mr. Rogers, but I've forgotten to take off my cardie. Even Mr. Rogers puts his nice jacket on when he leaves the house! I must ensure this does not happen again. That is, unless I wear New Balance sneakers or a Billabong t-shirt, because I can safely wear these items of clothing in America and fit in along with all the other unfashionable people with funny accents who surround me on a daily basis. God bless America. |