The Closet Question
So I've been getting really annoyed with the fact that none of my friends update their blog, but then I realized I'm just as bad, so I really can't complain. Here's the deal: I vow to blog at least once a week from here on out. They may not be useful, thoughtful, or even intelligent...but I will share some absurd idea with the world from now on. Thus, since I have nothing to poignant to offer about my life right now, besides that it is still very much the same, I will proceed to give intense thought on clothes. This past week I had the opportunity to go shopping for a new wardrobe since my current one seems insufficient for Middle Eastern standards.
Shopping for dull, conservative clothing proved more difficult than I thought. America as a country really has a ridiculous obsession with flashy and ostentatious (random confession: I spell checked this word) clothing. Anyways, spending over $100 for some less than fashionable clothing, my needs were mostly satisfied. Then I went to work and told a co-worker who's from Nepal about the experience. She made the brilliant suggestion of going to the Hare Krishna temple to purchase a shawl and burka...just in case. So, this whole episode got me thinking about clothing and how society (myself included) bases so much judgment on outer appearances. You see someone with a scruffy face and tattered clothes and what comes to mind? Homeless bum. Come on, don't deny it. Or say you see a girl in high heels and an expensive purse, you think High Maintenance. Not convinced yet? What about a kid with glasses, high water pants, and a pen in his breast pocket. Nerd squared. Clothes tell someone all about you without ever saying a word. Why is that? Why do clothes have to classify us? Why do we need to be classified at all? The truth is, that we don't have to...we choose to. Personally, I think it's stupid. We should be more concerned with what's in our heads than what's on our shoulders. So tomorrow, when you're looking at your clothes in the closet (or the hamper if you're me), go crazy and wear something unusual, break those barriers. Better yet, the next time you see someone walking down the street in an outfit that would classify them, smile to yourself and let the judgment pass you by.