I have no inherent fashion sense whatsoever. I don't buy into trends, and even if I did I feel like a fool for trying to look so "hip." If I can't wear it two years from now without looking like a throwback to an era gone by, I won't buy it.
Growing up, I had a definite style, I guess, but didn't we all? I had a pair of scrunchie socks in just about every color and like only 2 white pairs. I consider that wild now. My socks are pretty tame. I have a couple of pairs with flowers and the like that I wear with my "don't feel like wearing shoes with laces today, so I'll wear mules" shoes, but there's nothing particularly crazy about them. The wildest thing that I wear on a regular basis would probably be a "Lion King" band-aid, as I can't seem to quit cutting, burning, or otherwise mutilating myself.
My grandma used to do all my shopping for me. I kid you not. Up until I moved out after high school graduation, she would shop for me while I was at school during the day...I never even had to endure that whole torture of being measured for a first bra. She just bought one. It fit. Yeah, she has about 60 years on me, but she's better at figuring out what I would wear than my mother (who thinks I'm a toothpick), my sister (who thinks I should dress like a dancer in a Snoop Doggy Dogg video), and my aunt (who buys me clothes 5 sizes larger than the reality).
I don't really have a style anymore, and in fact I'm pretty conservative when it comes to buying clothes. I hate shopping because nothing ever fits right because I'm both short and petite. I have a closet full of stuff that everyone else has bought me that I've never seen fit to wear because I'd either look like a skank hoochie momma call girl or an oversexed secretary.
The problem with having no discernible style is that people are agitated over the fact that they can't find anything to stereotype me on. When that's done, they think I'm trying too hard to come across as "proper" because I have neither now or ever used Ebonics with any degree of proficiency. (Read my lips blog: Ebonics is not a language. It is not a dialect. It is a perversion. Disagree if you must--I'll debate you tat for tat.) Player haters...those are the same fools that hate your guts because you're nice.
*shrugs*
Without sounding like a Sesame Street segment, I gotta say that I like me. This is the me I will always be. Styles are going to change, but I refuse to change along with them.
Posted by Tiffany at December 31, 2003 08:41 AM