In fact, I'd say that I learn more about myself via my shoes than I do by the shape of my body.
The thing is - I realize that true "fashion" blogs often neglect to mention the human form in any of their discussions about style, and in an attempt to be 'cool', I've done so too.
But it's finally getting to the point where the issue comes up frequently enough that to ignore it would be too conscious of a decision to be conscientious.
Every day, I scroll through editorial after editorial of sickly looking girls wearing beautiful clothes in beautiful places. But why do photographers and stylists continue to tell women that, as (I've already mentioned once that) a friend so interestingly put it, "we only want half of you" ?
Why in this day and age, can't we make clothes that work for women, in stead of in spite of them? And why, when we do, is that clothing considered "commercial" and not "high fashion".
Along that same vein, why, as "fashion bloggers", do we so often fail to address this issue? It seems like the moment you cross over into discussions about body image, you descend to a lower tier. As if by acknowledging and accepting that the women modeling the clothes you so obsessively idolize are essentially nonexistent - you've reached some higher level of haute understanding. That everyone who's anyone already knows that the models don't really matter in the analysis of the clothing.
Don't worry - as usual, my finger pointing applies to myself as well. Via my fashion show reposts, I propone the idea that the clothes are the sole source of significance - because, honestly, I wish that they were. I wish that texture and color and design, regardless of the size of the woman, would be enough. I wish that I could stop saying "I like the idea of this, but not how it works on me".
Shouldn't any design I love be applicable to my own body? Why do I have to settle for certain shapes for fear that I'll look "disproportionate" or "long-torsoed"? I'm sick of trying to make myself look like a standard that's, realistically, unachievable.
I want to swathe my body in leather and tweed and wool and chunky oversized pieces regardless of how they make me look - just because of how they make me feel.
I want emotion, not emaciation, to be indicative of "high fashion".
But for now, I'll settle for being that awkward smiling girl in the oversized, unflattering wardrobe,
|shirt: Free People, pants: Anthropologie, shoes: thrifted|
because I like it.
Photos by Matt Engelhart