Principal: If you give off signals that you don’t want to belong, people will make sure that you don’t.
I’m wearing a vest today, which on my walk from the train station to school this morning made me think about some of my fashion choices in the past.
The vest I’m currently wearing is on the tight side, but in that respect, I’m a true believer in accentuating my chest to make people not look at my waist. But if we hopped in the Way-Back Machine and headed towards my closet, circa 1989, we’d see far, far too many extra-large men’s vests hanging in there, ala Andie from Pretty in Pink. They drowned me in tweed and pinstripes, and usually cost under $3 from the local thrift store.
I adored them. It was an unhealthy obsession though, because I was already self-conscious about my appearance, and oxford shirts and grossly oversized vests do nothing for the figure. I was in awe of people like Iona from the movie, but I didn’t have the confidence in myself to be able to pull those outfits off. Andie’s outfits made me comfortable and eclectic, and outwardly covered up all of the things I disliked about myself. Mind you, this was pre-goth/punk me, where my own destructive tendancies got in the way of my awkwardness.
I still have a penchant for vests, but I purged all of those particular vests years ago. Not to say that I don’t like hiding behind something to ignore things, but I just don’t know if I can go back to those kind of vests because of all the hidden meaning behind them, and all the baggage they tend to carry with them for me.
Now, I’d rather have people stare at my tits.