The world is full of interesting reactions. They puzzle me. It puzzles me how i puzzle others. I am puzzled by the fact that no matter how independent we are, or how we go about our days not knowing (or caring to know) one another we are all interconnected by opinion and make an impact on each others lives. Be it through a look, comment, or attitude we portray our opinions through our reactions, in turn forcing these opinions onto the one whom we are reacting to. You see, i'm not talking so much about when opinions are invited as per (for example) the infamous 'how do i look?' question. People lie. I'm talking about the brutally honest opinion that is subconsciously splattered on our faces every time we see someone and make a judgement about them.
For me, the most fascinating thing about these reactions is how much they are based on geography and play up to the stereotypes that are inevitably invested in particular places. For example, when we were going through our one stint of summer a couple of weeks back i wore a full length silk jumpsuit, which was covered in a flower pattern, with peep-toe wedges. On the commuter train to work, people who were uniformed in shirts and pants looked with a subtle smugness as they shimmied into seats ahead of me as (based purely on aesthetics) they had calculated that, of course, their jobs were much more important that mine and a weird sort of pecking order in terms of who got the best seats ensued. Walking along Regents Street, no-one cared. I cut through Carnaby Street on my lunch and people stop to compliment and ask me where i bought the jumpsuit. After work i head to Shoreditch where i suddenly feel hugely overdressed, and the way people are acknowledging me confirm this. A couple of Strongbow later i decide to meet my sister to go out in Surrey. Amidst the sea of sausage-skin cocktail dresses i stick out like a thumb that looks like a toe. As we leave the club a stocky man yells 'Did you REALLY leave the house like that??'
My point is that during one day, the way people reacted to me and my jumpsuit varied hugely. I experienced the good, the bad, and the ugly with all of these reactions (knowingly or unknowingly) conforming to the stereotypes that are inbuilt in certain geographies. The more liberal and fashion conscious Soho, the grungy and alternative East London, the middle-class Surrey. Whilst trying to explain this to my friend she responded with 'but whenever you get a comment about your clothes, doesn't it make you think 'Fuck you-i'm going to wear it more, and wear it more outlandishly!"?' My answer to that would be, um, no.
I don't dress to be an individual, to be alternative, or to prove a point. Growing up? Maybe. But not anymore. I keep going on about clothes as a reflection of personality, but for me this is exactly it. Of course it is very dependent on what kind of mood i am in and who i am with, but for the most part my heart is quite literally on my sleeve, and i find it hard not to take it personally when someone reacts negatively to what i'm wearing. This is when the mantra of generations of women 'Dress for yourself, not for anyone else' echoes eerily around the room. I know, i know, i shouldn't care. I'm an independent woman. Beyonce Beyonce. But at the same time, why should we be so hardened to other's opinions of us?
For every negative reaction, there are positives. My school friend told me that she was able to judge how good she looked in the morning by the amount of times people honked their horns at her. We laughed at how trashy that was, but at the same time there is a lot to be said about someone showing some appreciation of what you look like. If we completely harden ourselves to outside opinion we miss all the good things. Fashion shouldn't be a 'fuck you, i don't care' but a celebration of who and what we are. Sometimes it hurts to put yourself out there, but to not is to be scared, or even worse, indifferent.
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Good post, kimmy!
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