When I first conceived of this blog I had imagined that it would be about fashion. My first blog here was to lay the foundation for what my overly ambitious mind thought would be a fun, quirky, but still intelligent, sorry highly intelligent, means of illustrating a different approach to fashion. Mixing the old with the new, vintage with the latest trends, wait(!) this sounds familiar - it is every single fashion blog out there, twelve year olds are doing it! So, basically, what I really wanted was to show everyone how cool I was.
Little did I know that the old in mixing old and new would eventually become me. I no longer needed to trawl the 2nd hand shops of Cape Town in order to find that perfect vintage top, my sexy saggy 27yr old boobs would do. Adding to my discontent was the fact that I had recently come out of a relationship with a fat Namibian and as a consequence of lack of intelligent conversation and satisfying sex I had put on a few kilos. You see my blog was suppossed to be filled with fabulous pictures of me, looking fabulous in ensembles and dresses I had put together. Everyone was to think that it was, well, FABULOUS! Instead of feeling F for FABULOUS, I felt F for FAT. FAT. FAT!
There was no way I was going to parade my dimply ass in front of a camera, pretending I felt confident when I didn't. And, looking back I really wasn't even fat, just disappointed that the highlight of my former relationship was watching my ex eating McDonalds, in the car, while he was driving.
As a result of unforeseen weight gain and loss of confidence I just let my blog go wherever I felt like letting it go. And, for awhile, that was nowhere, because that's where I was going, sitting on my couch, watching Law & Order: Special Victims Unit - Du, du, du, du, DUM!
Clothes no longer made me feel what they used to. By this time I had amassed some pretty awesome dresses. I remembered really thinking of my collection as my own little treasure. The sentimental part of me imagined oneday passing it onto my daughter, or son, who I would dress up as a girl anyway.
Of especial value were my 2nd hand dresses. Not only were they cheap, but unique as well. When I would feel sad or down I'd put one on with some heels and prance around my flat. Yes, that's a normal thing to do! However, I had come to a point in my life where this all seemed a bit frivolous and pointless. I had certainly reached one of the epochs of growing up - Being SERIOUS.
So, I began behaving like an adult. I started looking for a job, eating healthy and exercising. I took an interest in such pressing matters as the environment and politics. How could I possibly wear pretty dresses when the rainforests were sad and politicians were being assholes? I even went as far as to clear out the contents of my cupboard. Not only getting rid of things I no longer wanted but certain items I had grown quite attached to.
This entire experience wasn't, however, all bad. For the first time in my adult life(and I use this term loosely) I was beginning to see that I wasn't only to be valued by how I looked and dressed. I'd become so attached and reliant on this idea of who I was, and in the process of continually trying to maintain this I had lost the plot. And, even though all these new ideas were mostly confusing, the most important thing was that I was thinking - like a big person!!!
Fast forward a year or so - I am in the dressing room at Woolworths, trying on dresses, of course! But instead of finding the frock that would epitomise the upcoming Summer of 2013, I find a grey hair. Really, now?!
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