The Five Strands of A Sedentary Empress

stylish and hip

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Being 'stylish and hip' involves a level of effort I'm no longer interested in making. Now that fashion has become more important than artistic merit at the Oscars, and more important than the music of those who wear expensive ensembles to sell it, I am officially annoyed by it in general. It is moving too quickly, eclipsing things that I find more influential and important and I'm becoming a little bored by all of it. Yes, I love to look good, who doesn't? What I don't love, though, is constantly having to keep my head above fashionable waters by wearing myself ragged as I fight to do so.

Maybe it's my age that's to blame. I am a thirty-something, with a child and a mortgage and a host of insecurities. I don't have the disposable income I did in my twenties when I'd take an entire weekend to go shopping with my friends. When I think of how much money I spent on clothes, it physically hurts. I watch shows like 'Sex and the City' and the thoughts which go through my head are along the lines of 'what an idiot that Carrie is, spending $40,000 on shoes! Soulless but not soleless. She should be ashamed of herself. No wonder she's been single for so long. She's too stupid for a relationship.' Some of this is sour grapes and some of this genuine 'wtf is she thinking?' thinking. That is, if she were a real person, of course.

This does not mean I want to look like the so-called 'minivan majority'. I don't want the faux-blonde highlighted bob cut or the mommy-jeans. I do not want to wear the same pearl studs everyday, nor do I want to start wearing subtle makeup which makes one wonder if you're actually wearing any. I'm all about the drama of red lips and smoky eyes and I refuse to cut my hair to be more 'kid-friendly'. It's my hair and a toddler will not steal my sensuality away from me. I will not lounge about in fleece pants and I will not get into pajamas as soon as the sun goes down. I will continue with the long hair and the perfumes and the black clothes until I get sick of it, not before.

I find that as I get older, cultivating and maintaining my own sense of style is far more interesting and honest than striving to meet society/media standards of current beauty. If all you're doing is following trends when getting dressed then you're not really representing yourself in any true way. What this says, instead, is that you are terrified of not measuring up, that your self-worth is tied up in acceptance and you've no idea who you actually are. While there are people who dress so outlandishly that I have to glance more than once to make sure I am seeing what I am seeing, I usually find that I am a little in awe of their courage to be different, until I consider whether or not the need to be unique is just as pathetic as working so hard to fit in. A bit of pickle, really.

Even if I had the money to keep up with what is considered 'hip and now', I probably wouldn't do it. I've always been the kind of woman who favours a feminine/Bohemian/exotic sort of look. I love the long medallion necklaces and the deep reds, blacks and tea-coloured clothes that hide some of the body's curves while accentuating others. I prefer comfort to sophistication, but know that a good white blouse and black fitted jacket are necessary in many settings. I love leather jackets, knee-high boots and gold-hoop earrings. I love the smell of patchouli as much as I love the scent of Chanel. I adore Asian prints and mandarin collars and often wish we still dressed as though we living in the Victorian era. Or the twenties. Or the thirties and forties. I wish women looked like real ladies again, frankly, and that we could find the sight of an exposed ankle to be sexy like we used to, rather than letting it all hang out. I think a little cleavage is quite appealing if done correctly, but I'm fairly certain that the low-waisted jean/exposed thong phenomonen was the work of the devil.

I think I still look pretty good, but I don't get excited about clothes like I used to. I tend to reserve my exclamations for books I've been wanting to read, ripping croissants and dipping them into melted chocolate, a good cup of coffee and the sight of M's long, tanned legs as they peek out from under the duvet. When I do buy clothes now, I am more discerning, more thoughtful about what I'm choosing, and I rarely consider whether or not all the cool girls are wearing it. I ask myself if it is practical, functional and 'me'. Then I ask myself if I paid all my other bills, if it fits and whether or not the price is reasonable. If I can answer yes to all of these questions, then I know it'll work, and that I will l be strutting like a peacock when I put it on.

Every girl likes to look pretty when you get right down to it.