Clothes mean nothing until someone lives in them.

I bought a new pair of shoes today.  These Guess cork wedges have rust-colored leather straps and bronze studs on the sides and are the perfect compliment to any summery ensemble.  They look rather similar to a tan pair of suede Madden Girl lace-up wedge booties that I wear in the autumn and winter — but trust me, they are clearly different.  I also bought a pewter grey Blanc Noir leather jacket with a quilted back.  Believe me when I say that it’s completely dissimilar from the amber-hued leather jacket with belted straps around the wrists.  Okay, so it’s no secret.  Women love to shop.  We love to spend money on clothes and shoes that look similar to what we already have — but not quite, because obviously there’s something different that makes them unique from every other item we own in that color.  We will spend hours standing before the mirror, anxiously trying on outfit after outfit, making our bedroom look like a tornado has swept through and dumped the entire contents of our closet on the floor.

Why aren’t men affected by such troubles?  It’s not as if they aren’t going the same places that we are or, for some reason, they don’t need to wear clothes.  They need to look presentable too…so why don’t they spend exactly 47 minutes before the mirror, 14 minutes getting dressed, and another 6 minutes switching out the shoes because the other ones just didn’t “go”?

To be honest, I can’t answer that question.  But I do know why women shop so much.

When a woman goes out in public, she presents an image of herself before the world.  And the world, as its usual cruel and judgmental self, will critique the image shown.  If I wear a sheath dress, pearls, and pumps, I suddenly become Jackie O all over again and they call me “classy and sophisticated”.  Or if I model a black leather jacket with ripped jeans, they slap on the label “punk and rebellious” without a second glance.  There’s always a chance that I’ll go out sporting Victoria’s Secret yoga pants and a North Face fleece jacket and no one will bat an eye when they refer to me as the “typical white girl”.  Everything that I wear projects an image of who I see myself as for the day.

And the reason that I spend a majority of my time in the morning throwing my clothes all over my bedroom floor?  It’s because I can’t find anything in my closet that describes who I want to be.  Unfortunately for us, there is no shirt that says “this is who I am today and you better respect me for it”!  Therefore, every time we go shopping, we always have to ask ourselves the question: will wearing this (insert item) result in the type of image that I want to portray?

That being said, I despise people who don’t like putting forth effort into their appearance.  Note that I didn’t say that you had to dress nicely every day and always look presentable, but is it so hard once a week to try and show other people what kind of person you are?  I’m tired of seeing endless pairs of leggings worn with a typical sweatshirt/fleece jacket — what does that say about you?  Nothing!

I therefore conclude my rant on the defense of shopping.


2 thoughts on “Clothes mean nothing until someone lives in them.

  1. True. But whatever you feel like can also be the image you portray. If I’m feeling sad, I usually dress in two ways: 1) comfy so I can curl up in a ball and appear “vulnerable” or “emotionally exhausted” or 2) really tough in black leather so I can appear stronger than I feel. So in a way, what I feel can also add to the image I’m trying to show. Does that make sense?

    But I see what you’re saying about some people just “feeling like” wearing blue or flannel or something…

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