I had a late breakfast with Ans today. He posted a blog that inspired wide spread debate regarding the subject of Greek life (last check - 127 replies, my comment envy knows no bounds!). If you're not into Greek life and you want to laugh, go check it out. If you are an active member of Greek society, and want to put a heckler in his place, go check it out. If you couldn't care less...stay with me as I move on to more ridiculous thoughts.
WARNING: THE FOLLOWING POST IS A TRUE LIFE RIDDLE WRAPPED ENIGMA RIDICULOUS MOMENT. THE CONTENTS OF THIS POST ARE BOTH TRUE AND RIDICULOUS.
I am, above all else, a rugged individualist. Well, at least I like to think so.
Okay, so I don't run around in "look at me" outfits. Nor do I spend time researching obscure designers to ensure that my look is unique. I do, however, make it a point to try and shop off the beaten path whenever possible, AND I willingly admit to consciously coveting my own unique sense of style - sexy, confident, original. I hate to see things I'm wearing adorned by other people. On the VERY rare occasion that I see a RWE outfit component duplicated in real time, I am mortified - some would say ridiculously so...but I DO NOT CARE.
I know from where my complex on fashion individuality derives. My mother, a young woman blessed with three girls and a tight budget, thought dressing her daughters alike was the ultimate display of childhood cuteness. She was wrong and the (horrible) experience has shaped my sense of style ever sense. These days, my sisters and I all have terribly different styles - the youngest is hood chic, the middle is punky funky, and I, the eldest, am typically neutral girlie (I like ruffles and army fatique). We almost never wear the same thing, and when we do, we make it look vastly different. So no problems there.
As a matter of fact (or a matter of delusion) I rarely if ever run into someone whose style is so similar to mine that it makes me take notice. However, on occasion, the accidental comment by an innocent instigator might bring the style similarities between me, and other rugged fashion individualist to light. Case in point, an exchange from today's late breakfast with Ans:
Him: My friend recognized you at the party last week, but couldn't place your face.
Me: Oh yeah?
Him: Yeah, she said, "who's the girl with X's haircut? I recognize her but can't place from where"
Me: ***stopped paying attention after the word haircut***
(Note: In this conversation equation, X = a mutual friend of Ans and mine)
ME cast as the mimic of someone else???? It is enough to make me shave my head completely bald in protest. Ok, so perhaps it is true that X cut her floppy top to a Cesar last year (or was it the year before), but she was no more the creator of the design etched cut than I was of back length locs. How dare someone reduce me to a fashion follower, a coiffure copier, a mane mocker? I wanted to scream a narcissistic rant defending my own unparagoned fashion flyness. I wanted to list outfits, show pictures, recite praise like a curriculum vitae of fashion forwardness. I wanted...I wanted...I wanted her, this lady who didn't know me from Adam, to take it back. :-(
And that's about when I got a grip on my ridiculousness, reined in my ego, and shifted my attention back to what Ans was saying.
Me: So she recognized me from your bday dinner? Yeah, it's gonna take some people awhile to get used to me without the locs...
*eyes sparkling* Besides, anything you can wear, I can wear better. In what you wear I look better than you!! Or at least we should all believe this about ourselves! (See 2:17 below! )
Reigning in ridiculousness. A Riddle Wrapped Enigma Pastime.
0 comments:
Post a Comment