what i’m wearing: fashion union 2 in 1 roll neck sweater, j brand
flared cropped jeans via stylebop, jeffrey campbell grey belanger
loafers & grey prada saffiano tote
I think this may be my favourite sweater of 2016, now substantial it is not but a saviour it surely is. Tucked underneath the grey wool is a faux crisp white shirt, which to my delight, refuses to wrinkle but more pivotally, provides the sophisticated sort of layering I need. Usually, I’m quite the mess. Haphazard hair despite styling, inky eye makeup, not smokey but drizzly like dirty rain, white clothing faithfully stained by coffee, avocado and or other substances that leave questionable colouring. Mismatched socks, creased blazers and red lipstick teeth are three more disasters loyal to my personal style. I have never been one of those immaculate women, I surrendered the ideal a very long time ago. I bought stain remover and an iron, which I shamefully never use but intention was strong. It is one of the reasons I keep my home clean with tyrant discipline, everything else is so scattered, I’d lose my mind if the environment I existed within followed suit. Which it so easily could, a simple shoe choice can turn my home into a hurricane. So to conclude perhaps my most impressive ramble, this sweater-faux-shirt is a great thing for me. I have felt so happy as of late, the relief that the end of a year provides is refreshing. But I delved into the terribe pursuit of reading what my haters have to say, their ridiculous, analytical commentary does make me laugh but it also makes me hazy. I feel defensive but not verbally, instead it makes me want to share solely visual content and refrain from allowing my messy life to spill into any written content here. I suspect I’d receive less hate if I offered less of myself here. Perhaps this is why I inadvertenly wrote an entire paragraph about a sleeveless sweater. I don’t know. But they do silence me somewhat. I resent that. They make me doubt my approach to blogging. I do believe we as online women have developed an allergy to sugary representations of life, or at least I hope, but sometimes I cannot help but fear we still prefer the stereotypical forever smiling female. Confused, as always but I come to you here as a friend, as always. The questions and doubts I share here are true to what I wonder internally. And if people don’t enjoy my clumsy truths I have no idea why they continue to follow but also, harshly analyze my life. Even the shallowest observation would confirm that I am indeed a mess and not just because there might be lipstick on my teeth. But I confess all of this as a friend, a messy friend but one who is wearing the most perfect sweater. My life and my personality are not entities that can be categorized or boxed up comfortably. I am many things, I lack many things and I am yet to become so many things. I like lip fillers but I adore books too. I am intelligent but also very stupid. I resent the narrow minds that try to tunnel everyone into a category, a definition that makes them feel at ease. I hope you refuse and resist should you find someone forcing one onto you. But above all, there is hope in this silly sweater. There is hope for all of us wilder women who wonder and might not make sense all of the time. And quite like the faux white shirt of this sweater, we must refuse to bunch up and wrinkle under self-doubt.
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