Who I am and
who I feel like,
are likely two totally different people.
I don't know who I am yet, but I sure as heck know who I feel like I am.
All I know is that fashion-wise, what works for me one day, disgusts me the next.
Even during the course of this blog, I've looked back at previous posts to find myself embarrassed at the idiocy of some of my ensembles.
And this confuses me.
How can something that feels so perfect - so ME - one moment,
feel so foreign to me the next.
How can I ABSOLUTELY HAVE TO HAVE some material item, only to wake up the next day ABSOLUTELY CONVINCED that I HAVE ABSOLUTELY NOTHING to wear.
(so I'm dramatic, sue me).
I'm the same human,
with the same brain,
and the same genes,
so why the different psyche?
I'm starting to think it's a function of finding myself - of discovering my real natural default.
Every day, depending upon my environment and my various social interactions, I become a different person. At work I'm naive-slightly-inexperienced-Gabby, on the street I'm my-shoes-are-cooler-than-thou's-and-I-don't-fit-in-here-snob-Gabby, with my friends I'm dance-in-public-places-sing-in-bathrooms-because-they-have-good-acoustics-Gabby....and so on and so on (and so on and so on) (and so on and so on).
And each Gabby requires her own wardrobe.
Hence the avalanche-prone closet
and co-opted coffee table cum shoe rack.
If this theory pans out,
someday I'll be so at peace with my Gabby-ness (have I said my name enough yet?) that I'll see myself as the same individual in every scenario,
and hence select a more cohesive and thematically-unified wardrobe.
|shirt: Gap, pants: Uniqlo (sim, here), shoes: UO (sim, here, here), watch: Anne Klein|
Which probably won't consist of bright blue faux velvet shoes,
paired with obnoxious plaid pants.
But who knows?
I know I don't know much, but I'm guessing that the real Gabby is just as weird as the interim one.