Though this blog is littered with my perspective on life and my
controversial opinions, I like to think that I keep it rather impersonal. I want to make sure that you, as the reader, feel as though you’re reading about the world around you instead of about me, the writer. However, I want to express some thoughts on my life and I hope that you will bare with me. This is going to be a long rant and I don’t think you’ll enjoy reading it very much so I don’t suggest that you go ahead and read it.
Ever since I was young I’ve enjoyed fashion but I’ve never had the opportunity to express it. Coming from a lower-middle class family, I’ve always found myself skimming the clearance or sales section of various middle class stores. Though there is nothing at all wrong with thrifting or shopping at department stores, I have been fortunate enough to go to specialized female clothing stores (even if those on the cheaper end). But things changed after I hit university – perhaps it’s because mom got a job, or I got a job, or my parents became slightly more lenient with how I dress, or even because I was able to better hide how I dressed outside of home.
It’s funny, at this point you’re probably thinking that I was walking around in mini skirts and cropped tops. While that might be the occasional “night out” case, I am simply referring to T-shirts, lace shirts, capris, and shorts. My Muslim parents are on the conservative side. Bleh. (Oh, and if you are reading along, I do apologize for how shallow and stupid I must sound. I promise this is going somewhere!)
What ever the case, things changed and my wardrobe started growing. Fast forward to the end of first year and you’ll find little old me still in crew neck T-shirts and sweats or tights all day, ever day. And then second year hit and I had the opportunity to move away. I made it my mission to finally start dressing the way I wanted to. To become a person I wanted to be – like a middle class Blair Waldrof of sorts, someone who made it all seem effortless. Some point through the middle of the year, I found myself trying to shove a new set of clothes into my closet albeit the lack of room. I had successfully gotten enough clothes to fill my closet and chest – hallelujah, I was so happy. At the end of the year, when co-workers were passing out cards and “warm fuzzies,” I got quite a few “I love your sense of fashion!” and “Lace queen” comments. I felt such a short sense of happiness over all of that.
And I’m looking at this closet right now and thinking to myself, am I who I really want to be? Does all of that matter to me? That’s the thing. I am such a conflicted person. It’s not really about the clothes. It’s a lot deeper than that. As for the clothes, I guess a big catalyst for this train of thought is my upcoming interview for a “trendy” women’s fashion store. I wonder if I really represent what they’re looking for. Do I really embody a trendy-feminine outlook? I just don’t know. And in the grand scheme of things, does it matter? I guess I’m wondering if I am really the person I set out to be. Was this a shallow victory?
At the end of the day, am I a person that I want to be?
I need to get my life in order. I’m pursuing so many things – with such varying levels of effort – that I feel as though I have no true sense of direction in my life.
Where am I going? Is it worth going there at all and am I even taking the right path?
Any how, rant over.
I need to stop thinking so much. 🙂