I don’t want to sound petty, but sometimes buying a new sweater does wonders for ones mindset.
I’m not suggesting that I’ve bought one mind you, just that, after 6 and a half months of not buying anything resembling a scrap of clothing, I’m starting to feel mighty unfashionable. For example, I never got on board with those skinny jeans when they first came out, and now I’m dearly regretting it. They would go perfectly with almost anything wouldn’t they?
Actually, I’m going to blame most of my crisis on the clothes drier. It keeps eating socks. I kid you not, I have over 50 mismatched socks in a special “sock basket” in my bedroom; I made two sock dolls at Christmas (also stuffed with socks) and didn’t make a dent.
Today was the last straw when I realized I had finally lost my last pair of proper, black, office-appropriate socks. In fact, the only socks I could find that weren’t meant for skiing down subzero slopes was an old pair of softball socks – yup, the white cotton knee-high kind with the red stripes down the side.
You try being fashionable when you have those sticking out from beneath your dress pants.
I’ve never been very high end clothing-wise, but I have always considered myself above the “sport socks in high heels” level. (To be honest, I took the socks off when I got indoors, so only the commuters on the bus suspected I was crazy).
The point is that we’re all living in this society where the way you look is really important, and even if I pretend that I don’t care, I obviously do. My clothes aren’t worn out, they’re just old, but it makes me feel worn out wearing them.
Now don’t worry, I’m not about to crack and go on a shopping spree. I’ve just been thinking more and more about clothing.
I honestly thought that buying nothing for a year would help me make better choices afterward. Instead of numerous cotton shirts made in a sweat shop, I would buy a single, quality, locally sewn garment made out of sustainable materials. Instead of purchasing flip flops at the dollar store I would find ones with a lifetime warranty or. . . I don’t know. . . weave them myself out of local grasses.
The truth is this: I can talk all I want about making smart consumer choices and thinking about where products come from, but when it comes down to it, I ‘m horribly afraid that the moment this project is over, I’m going to run down to the local mall and buy 3 shirts for $20.