Imma Be Me

I don’t consider myself to be a flashy dresser.  I have a fairly simple dress code.  I’m not rolling into the office in poodle skirts or tartan pants with suspenders.  I’m more the boring navy blue trousers and penny loafers kind of gal.  It’s safe to say that I have a rather British sensibility in my fashion endeavors.  One of my colleagues has a running commentary on my attire and what amuses me about it is that they can never remember the name of the celebrity they’re trying to compare me to, so I need to guess.

You know what you look like?  A gladiator……….in a prom dress

You know what you look like?  A hippie in tailored clothes, who isn’t stoned

You know what you look like?  Audrey Hepburn except growling

You know what you look like? Katherine Hepburn except girlier

You know what you look like?  A geisha doll except punk rock

You know what you look like?  Molly Ringwald, Elizabeth Perkins, Hilary Swank, Meg Ryan (HUH?), Kristy McNichol, Tatum O’Neill….

I know damn well I’m not the only one that goes through this nonsense, but my pet peeve is when people perceive that I’m somehow a replica of someone else.  I can promise you this, no one is like me.  There may be some similarities, but no one I personally know is completely like me.  I’ve already shown my abundant disdain for celebrity.  I have no intention of dressing like, smelling like, cooking like, writing like, looking like someone other than….me.  So when I hear that estimation that I look like anyone other than myself…..

If I happen to own something; it’s for no other reason than…I like it.  I want it.  I have it.

I appreciate simplicity and authenticity.

I will gladly accept the following instead.  You are pretty.  You are smart.  You are funny.  You are kind.   You are great with children.  You treat your parents like royalty.  You are a devoted wife.  The content of your character shows in the way you treat children, the elderly and your friends and animals.  I’m down with that.  Less is more as far as I’m concerned.  I don’t need to look like someone else to feel flattered.  I don’t want to look like anyone else.  I want to be me, body, mind and soul.

I often wonder what the crime of individuality is.  Why are we so content to become homogenized in every way?  We should never short change in indelible mark of individuality each of us leaves.

Is the need to fit in overruling sense of self?  When we were younger we ascribed to something known as peer pressure.  We all did; in some way or form at one time or another.  But we are supposed to be adults now.  We all have to have a Louis Vuitton purse to find fulfillment no?  We all need to wear the same thing to find that ever elusive acceptance no?  I’ve seen some of my neighbors…I assure you, I don’t want to fit in.  I am a strong individual and tend to attract strong individuals.  My friends all are opinionated and passionate and unique and I treasure the variation they bring to my life.  But not one of them is run of the mill.

I’ve even noticed a trend towards piercing and tattooing which has now become the norm.  What was once a complete rebellion of convention has now become convention.  I know, I sound like an old codger.  You whippersnappers…..

Says she who has three and is brainstorming the fourth…

 

 

 

 

 

 

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