I will never be a fashion blogger.
Today, I read an article on perfectionism. It’s in German, but one of the core statements was, that our generation, let’s call it “Generation Instagram”, strives for perfection. Or, at least, the image of perfection. The author talks about how we are trying to optimise every aspect of our being, from materialistic possessions to our appearance.
It’s no secret that the way you dress has an impact on how people treat you. How they see you, literally. It’s not only the outfit, of course, how you do your hair or what your face looks like is also important, but your outfit will most likely be the most recognizable thing strangers can find. If you don’t rock a Marge Simpons- style haircut, that is.
We judge other people, always. Ladies who wear fur are rich. Fur is expensive, so that seems to be a given. They are eccentric, narcissists, arrogant. Maybe. I’d say, they don’t care about other beings because they let animals be killed so they can wear them as an accessory. Which I think is cruel, but I wouldn’t say that they are heartless people overall.
People in suits are important. Teenagers in leather outfits are rebels. Girls who wear short shorts and show cleavage are promiscuos. What suprises me, is that we don’t just judge people or say negative things about them. We pretend to know them.
Maybe, it’s a human thing. We like to know who this person in front of us is. We need categories to put them in and if we don’t find any that fit, we are utterly confused.
But we really pretend that we know anything about peoples’ situations. A young woman in a tight skirt later at night. She’s definitely single and on the hunt for a guy. She’s skinny. She must be very confident and proud of her appearance.
A man in old jeans, a band shirt and a leather jacket. He has got longer hair. He’s probably unemployed. Or a drug dealer. I mean, who walks around dressed like that?! No one with a real job. Maybe he wants to be young and rebellious so bad because he doesn’t have a real life.
These are things people actually think. And say. And act out. They stare, they turn away, they begin to gossip, openly. They ask, why do you dress like that if you don’t want people to think (insert stereotypical comment).
We cannot turn away from thinking like that, people say. We make connections between outer appearances and life choices- appearance and lifestyle, appearance and personality.
Isn’t that dangerous? And disrespectful? Why would I have to dress a certain way because otherwise, I might “come off” as unprofessional, less worthy, stupid? I get it, corporate jobs require “professional wear”. But is a woman automatically less professional and capable of her job, if she does it wearing a red pantsuit rather than a normal black one?
I am pledging for a bit less comformism, if you can afford it or if you dare to do so. I write this, wearing a uniform that makes me look what other people consider “professional”.
The way I see it, it hides any kind of curve I could have, making me look like a sleek, undefined silhouette. It’s too big und unflattering. I don’t feel professional. I feel dressed. Up. Like wearing a costume I never wanted in the first place.
I will never be a fashion blogger. Because “wear whatever the fuck you want” doesn’t sell very well, I feel. Care a bit less about how many people might like your new shoes or think you cannot possibly combine those to colours. Be brave. Fashion is an artistic statement- who would dare to call an artist unprofessional? We can do anything.