It’s 1.10pm on Saturday. There has been a cloud hanging over me all morning. It has been distracting me as I’ve gone about my day, doing lovely things: popped round to see my niece, who’s two today (Have to admit that she seemed more impressed with the chocolate lolly I bought her than the doll’s blanket that I’d made for her, but am sure it’ll be a “grower” present. It looks fab in her doll’s pram even if not!); played tea parties with my niece & nephew (Mr & Mrs Potato Head joined us, along with Woody & Buzz. Seems my whole family, not just me, is obsessed with Toy Story at the minute!); bought some stamps & sorted my float for Monday’s car boot (buying stamps never fails to make me happy – heavens knows why – but I guess the float falls under ‘useful’ more than ‘lovely’); went to a Scout fete (a bit disappointing on the bric a brac front but I won a tool set that’s going into the car boot boxes!); changed my bed (definitely not lovely, but the bed itself looks lovely now it’s done).
As I sit on my fresh, crisp bed, the cloud can be avoided no longer. It is straight over my head. What am I going to wear for my niece’s birthday part this afternoon?! It seems strange that I haven’t written about clothes on this blog before. I posted about grooming, toiletries, health kicks etc, but never about actual clothes. This is odd as clothes are one of my big passions in life. I love fashion. Dress is my favourite art form. I obsess about how I dress & observe other people’s dress like a hawk. It’s distinct passion: I’m an avid Vogue reader (I have every issue for the past 12 years) but don’t really like shopping & I generally avoid obvious trends (probably snobbery, I admit – I don’t want to look like everyone else). For me, the love is about style, but that requires cultivation – it’s always evolving & developing, like any craft or art – fashion is what pushes style forward.
Anyway, enough of my thoughts on fashion else I’ll start to sound like a conceited fool (if I don’t already). The problem is that today I am stuck; I don’t know what to wear. My wardrobe doors are open in the hope that I’m going to gain inspiration but it isn’t happening. All the individual times are attractive enough, but everything feels just wrong. I wore my failsafe dress-of-the-season to my nephew’s party two months ago, so that’s out (I’m sure noone else would care but it’s a matter of personal pride). My summer wardrobe is looking too summery & probably won’t be warm enough. The outfits I’ve already sorted for autumn/winter are either a bit too avant-garde for a children’s party or far too wintery & warm. Grr!
My psyche & my self-image are so intertwined (I guess this is the case for most people, it’s all a matter of to what extent & how much you obsess about it!) that this is becoming an existential dilemma. I pride myself on having my own style but today this feels like I’m stuck in a rut. I feel boring. Drab. I haven’t the time or the money to go out & buy something to wear, plus getting something new would feel like cheating – maybe I’m just a masochist (or a puritan) but I want to resolve this dilemma with my existing clothes because there’s really nothing wrong with them. The clothes aren’t the problem: I am. I feel bored & fed up with myself, and am taking this out on my poor clothes. The feeling will pass but in the mean time I wish that ‘pass the pattern’ was here to help me. Many a happy evening in my early teens was spent with her, getting our clothes out & putting new outfit combos together. It’s funny to think that despite all the years & changes & ‘moving on’ since then, some things remain the same. This isn’t the first I’ve angsted about how I dress/who I am. Nor will it be the last, I’m sure.