Sunday, September 23, 2012

Why I'm Not a Fashion Blogger and Other Random Acts of Weirdness

1. I smash colors together because they make me happy, not because they play well off of each other or I like the contrast or any other reason. You will rarely hear me wax rhapsodic about "playing with texture". But clothing makes me happy. Sometimes this means I look like a particularly eccentric teacher, sometimes it means I look like a teacher's delightfully mad sister. Which, it turns out, I actually am a teacher's delightfully mad sister? So that works out well for me.

 2. I do not have a friend or anybody out there with a fancy DSLR taking photos of me in whatever I've dreamed up that morning to wear. Very occasionally I'll ask Jason to take a couple shots, but he takes photos literally every. single. second. whether I know about it or not. We tend to end up with... shall we say, interesting pictures of my face.

3. See, look at him lookin' all smug. Or happy. I think he just looks happy? But I choose to say he looks smug because that's how we're remembering it.

4. I take photos of myself, because self-portraits have a long and storied history within my family; my siblings and I always made sure to have at least one self-portrait for each roll of film my mother developed. Now there are digital cameras and therefore no end to the self-portraits I can take! Bwahahahaha! Mine is an evil laugh!

Also, as a side note, my niece takes self-portraits and took her first self-portrait with a digital camera when she was still technically a baby. Like I said, it's a long and storied family tradition.

5. Because that shot above is my best 'fashion blogger' face. Otherwise I just smile like a normal person and look goofy. You should see all my teeth.

Well, I mean, not really. I have no idea why you'd want to look at my teeth.

6. I don't wear makeup, because makeup feels like clay on my face no matter how lightweight it is. And if I'm gonna wear clay on my face, I'm going to put on some serious designs and go free all the animals at the zoo.

Which I promise is an old in-joke between me and some old friends of mine and not something I actually plan to do.

7. ... or is it?

8. I do not ask Jason to move when I am trying to take an artful shot of my feet, so I am obviously bad at composing photos that make anybody at all care about my clothes. Not that they would anyway.

9. Because the thing that is best about this outfit is my socks. They are a gift from my friend Sarah and they are socks that are one-of-a-kind, literally; they're made not to match! Which means they are my favorite socks ever right now. I used to wear purposefully mismatched socks all the time in high school.

 You'd be surprised how many people notice and feel the need to stop you on the sidewalk and let you know that your socks don't match. I like to think they were just being helpful.I'm pretty sure it was a punk rock statement of rebellion against the restrictions of our matching-obsessed society, okay? I was sixteen. Everybody's out to make a statement at sixteen.

10. Because the most expensive thing I've even got here is the purse that cost me 30 dollars. The white T-shirt and purse are from JC Penney. The shoes and orange jacket I'm holding are from Old Navy. The jeans are from Walmart, the socks are from a little shop Sarah visited while she was on vacation, the scarf is from New York & Company like four years ago, and I made the necklace. Obviously I am rockin' the designer goods here.

11. Because I'd hate to wear clothes with anyone's amusement but my own in mind. Don't get me wrong, though; I am often amused by my own clothing. I can only hope other people in the world are also amused.

12. This has less than nothing to do with the point of the post, but I wanted to include this photo I took on my cell phone on Saturday:

This is my boss giving a lovely and polite Confederate General directions to find the school stadium he was looking for on Saturday. The town I work at had a town festival this weekend, so we saw more than one person dressed up in whichever version of period clothing they were most interested in (we had a Revolutionary War general walking around as well, and a woman in a hoop skirt dress!).

It's the first time they've done this particular festival, so everybody was still kind of getting their sea (or mountain, I guess?) legs about the whole thing. This gentleman and his wife came by trying to figure out where all the fun stuff was happening.

Most of what I took away from Saturday is that I am so glad women are no longer expected to wear anything that even remotely resembles a hoop skirt.

That seems like a good moral for this story.


  1. Oh, hon, you have youth and youth always = beauty, let me tell you from my side of Old Lady. You are a total fashionable hottie with those cute glasses and your hair and hip clothes. Now, having said that, I'm SO GLAD you aren't a fashion blogger. Blech. There is so much more to life than what fiber we pull over our body on any given day.

    Right now I'm wearing my pajamas, 'cause it's Sunday and I had a ton of homework to finish. I only look kinda smug since I figured out a tough Astronomy problem and I wrote a kick ass essay en español. I'm gonna embrace the smug!

    Take care, girl.

  2. Yeah, any day I spend entirely in my house is basically Pajama Day, so I feel you there! I've actually bought a few pairs of lounge-y pants that look pretty normal so I can still look presentable if anyone happens to stop by, haha.

  3. Ack! Google ate my comment! Trying to recreate...

    Yeah, today was Whatever Is Clean day, which was a real crap shoot. I wore leggings, a purple skirt that should probably be permanently retired, and the local NPR station's giveaway tee in aqua. And my red Converse tennies. I looked like a bag lady. Oh well, my fellow estudiantes think I am nuts anyway!!!


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