Clarity

Huh...
I hope my last post doesn't sound like I will now completely let go of all hygiene and anything that may make me look aesthetically pleasing.
While reading it, I could see how one got a mental picture of me sitting in a filthy recliner wearing a stained wife beater, pants unbuttoned with a beer gut and popcorn strewn all over my lap and hair.
This, of course, is not the case. I am just happy I will not be judged anymore if my chipped nail polish takes longer than a day to correct.
I do enjoy dressing up and looking "good". I do not enjoy people taking it so damn seriously. Hearing folks go on and on and on about the joys of sequins and the genius breakthrough of The Pagoda Shoulder just makes me want to prance around in a burlap sack to show them how little I care. One way I achieve this is the not-so-uncommon outfit I'll wear to work, consisting of a pair of very old, very thread-bare scrubs and a T-shirt or maybe even a Gap Men's button down and boots. I could not care any less if the people of Madison Avenue do not view me as "fashionably elite". That's right, I'm not. I'm comfortable. Because for the next 8-and-change hours, I'll be in an unforgiving suit, consisting of a shell of a jacket and a tight and uncomfortable skirt, making the act of walking in the 4-inch heels a very annoying thing to do. Sure it may look good - it is (w)TF after all, but...my God.
I may be exceedingly harsh on the World o' Fashion, but it's only because as I have been working in the lucrative "luxury" circle for years now. I have seen the worst of it and the people that wallow in this tier can be, well, creepy. Perhaps I will find it not so unsucky one day.
I highly doubt it, but I won't shrug the notion entirely. It has had its exciting moments, and I have seen some very- eh - interesting things that make for great stories, but for now, I am so glad I broke out.