sans tube tops

Thanks to the Goodwill in Clarksburg, WV I have expanded my ugly shirt collection!!!

I LOVE a good butterfly collar.  LOVE THEM!

Now, I have a theory, and since I am technically a doctor I can say it's scientifically proven, though it is only scientifically proven in my own brain.... My theory is that my love of ugly clothes stems from my being a child of the 70s.  I grew up in ugly clothes.  My parents, and my parents' friends wore them.  I love them!  MORE PLAID, MORE POLYESTER!!! POUR THEM IN MY CLOSET!

 This is the combo of shirt and trousers. The trousers are green, fake wool, and subtly herringbone.  My whole ensemble today is a symphony of green, except my shoes.  Same sneakers as always, only these are brand new, and look exactly like the old ones.

Maybe there's something safe about these clothes, something comforting.  Maybe my ideas of what is beautiful were formed when I was a kid and now I can't undo them.  I remember dressing up in my friend's mom's clothes: tube tops, and sparkly gold lame, and things like that.  Her mom was so glamorous to me... and now here I am (sans tube tops) wearing things my mom may have worn.

I was not only influenced by the 70s, though.  The 80s had their input too.  And I blame Barbie.

This Barbie to be exact (source).  I had an aunt in the 80s who wore stuff like this, and to me was super glamorous and grown up and awesome.  Oh, and 80s movies! Weird Science, Pretty in Pink, all John Hughes movies, really... Is it any wonder I wear what I do?

But here is the interesting part.  Though I love ugly clothes, they are not usually what I would choose to wear, if I had a choice.  I own normal clothes, sophisticated and simple clothes, made of natural fibers.  And I love them.  I would wear them all the time if I could, they're beautiful.  but somehow I end up in the ugly clothes again and again.  Maybe it's because I am not wild about my job, and this is one way to make it more fun.

The difference between ugly and hate

I've been thinking a great deal lately about the difference between clothes that're ugly and clothes that I hate.
This is mainly because although I recently (read: sometime last month) organized my closet enough so that I could enter it, it has now become so disheveled and crammed that although I can reach into it, I can no longer get into it.  This makes it harder to chose clothes.  So I generally go with what I can see.  And this leads to some interesting choices.  Many are the days I have appeared at work looking like I got dressed in the dark.  I didn't, I just don't care if I match or not.  And many are the days I have worn things I don't particularly like, just because they are clean and within reach.

There's a difference between things that are ugly and things that I hate.  Some fit into both categories.  Sometimes it's the way things fit or feel.  They can be staggeringly uncomfortable.  Or ill-fitting.  Or just WRONG.  They can be wrong.  As I am trying on these garments I am putting them in the bag to go to the charity shop-- one monkey's trash is another's treasure, which is how I ended up with many of my lovely clothes in the first place.  And I am glad to see them go to another good home.

But as I sometimes wear these emergency clothes (read: need to clean your room, Miss!) to work, I often think about how clothes make you feel.  The subtle differences in your day when you feel better or worse just because you have the dark and guilty secret that you are wearing an elasticated waistband, or that you folded over the waist of your trousers to stop them falling down, or, as has happened to me, that your trousers DID fall down in the parking lot on the way in to work.

I'm trying.  I buy clothes too large without trying them on.  I have long felt that I am not good enough for good clothes.  I am trying to feel better.  But I do love my ugly clothes.  I am just trying to love ugly clothes which actually fit.  It will save me hours of parking lot humiliations in the long run.