Gadget's Workshop
9
February 17:02
Dressing dangerously
So I'm back. With an entry that I've had lurking about for ages, but never bothered to finish. Ah well, here goes...One of the things I like about blogs is that you can't see what people look like so easily. They probably have a picture of themselves there somewhere, but mostly you read what they write rather than listen to what they say. It's wonderfully democratic. You can be just who you like.
The downside, of course, being that people can't hear your inflection. And so find it more difficult to tell when you're being sarcastic or deliberately obtuse or just genuinely confused.
The thing being, in The Real WorldTM people actually look at you while you're talking. And so will (consciously or not) make some sort of judgement of your appearance. On the blogs all you have to go on is the colour of their background. (Ooh. Pretty flowers.Etc.)
I was paddling around (I don't surf the world wide web, I paddle in the shallow end away from the sharks) and I found this thing about something called Wholesome Wear.
I kid you not. I couldn't make this stuff up. It's nearly (not quite) as good as WaitWear which is just...indescribable.
It got me thinking though.
While I wouldn't be seen dead going to the swimming pool in one of those outfits (I don't wear dresses. Not even to swim in) I feel equally uncomfortable wandering about the place in a bikini. Which is the only swimwear I have, because one-pieces always without fail come in hideously awful flowery patterns (this one is the best of the bunch which says a lot really) and never fit. Going swimming always makes me feel like I'm toddling around in my underwear, and that everyone's looking at me.
The latter is patently ridiculous, of course: no one actually pays anyone else any attention when swimming; they're too concerned about either a) swimming or b) what they look like. But the former concerns me: despite my general protestations about shopping, I like clothes. Particularly I like to wear clothes, especially when out in public. Not doing so tends to get you arrested anyway, so it's just as well.
I also found a book. And by the by, I was looking for Star Wars stuff, so how on earth I ended up on the Catholic blogs is a mystery to me too...One of the things that annoys me about this book (apart from the cover obviously: lavender is A Granny Colour, and should not be used on the covers of books) is the way it would seem to advocate the wearing of dresses and skirts.
Let me be clear: I have nothing against dresses or skirts on other people. But the last time I wore a dress was to the Chaplaincy ball last June, and despite somehow ending up with five skirts (five! How?), they're strictly special occasion wear. Except for one, which is strictly wear nowhere because...never mind why.
You cannot cycle in a short skirt. You can't. You cannot cycle in a long skirt. The ends get oily and mucky and it's generally considered to be A Bad Thing. Plus it's murder on your washing machine. And if you do it wrong you look like Gypsy Rose Lee.
How you dress says a whole lot about you whether you wish it or not.
Take blogging for example. My blog was formerly lovely and fluffy and pink. Now it's black and red and looks like the inside of Fresh Garbage in Belfast. Without the smell of dubious substances, obviously, as my favourite dubious substance is chocolate, which is legal everywhere (I think).
Which possibly says that I have Disassociative Identity Disorder (or DID, formerly know as Multiple Personality Disorder – see, I learn things!) or just that I'm undergoing another attitude shift. They happen every now and again.
But your clothes say even more about you than that, particularly to those who don't really know you. That's why stuff like A Week of Dressing Dangerously is so entertaining. People who are dressed differently to how they normally dress act differently to how they normally act.
Personally, if I had to wear a hippy outfit for a day I'd be mortified. But I'm (honestly!) rather shy and retiring. And I prefer to wander through completely oblivious to what's going on around me (and having others oblivious to me). Or at least giving that impression...
Thing is, it's all tied up with body image again, isn't it? If you feel comfortable in your own skin then other people can go and take a running jump if they don't like it. They don't, of course, but if you're not quite the exact level of normalcy they're looking for then you're likely to ruffle some feathers anywhere other than uni. I remember causing a mild sensation among the first year girls at the age of 11 when I point blank refused to make my skirt any shorter. Not out of any particular religious-ness (I wasn't a Christian then) but just because I was too stubborn to do anything I didn't really fancy. Shows you how petty people can be (myself included: don't wanna, not gonna.)
Me of course being, er...mild as milk (hey, it happens...sometimes) most of the time suddenly transmogrified into being opinionated and difficult. I'm not entirely sure when it happened, but 'some point in the last decade' probably covers it. After all, I was the little shy kid at the back of the class. I'll rephrase that. I was the little shy kid with a bossy streak a mile wide at the back of the class who walks kind of strangely. This is more the result of chronic bad temper (walking very quickly is a wonderful way to reduce stress) and far too many books in my bag (many many textbooks) while I was in school. As a result I now march along at a frightening pace. It annoys people when they have to jog to keep up. But oh well.
If you should see me then, walking around campus (blink and you'll miss me) while wearing ridiculous outfits, don't worry: it'll wear off. My jeans are my refuge from the world. Worrying that.
Last thing, I promise. University is a brilliant place for being exactly who you wish to be. If that's an antisocial eejit, so be it, but you'll have no friends. If you're a person who likes rainbow Mohican haircuts and painting your face yellow, hey, there's probably at least one other person who thinks that's the greatest thing ever. If you consider jeans to be the very foundation on which your life is built, then you're likely to find many friends.
And if you have strange religious beliefs that seems to be ok too.
Or a combination of all of the above.
Nice being accepted for whoever it is you reckon you are, rather than who everyone else wants you to be.
Vive la difference.
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