Does anyone remember when I was obsessed with leather shorts?
That was another me who is long gone. But check out Yoko Ono wearing leather shorts at the Canne Film Festival! What an early-adopter she was.
It’s a relief to stop caring about the latest trends. The more fashion-conscious one is, the more anxiety one must contend with, and that is what generates billions of dollars for the fashion industry. The anxiety can only be relieved by shopping, and even then it’s a momentary relief. Every fashion layout or editorial is a trigger, causing new anxiety.
I have no idea of the new trends! Is it wide trousers or narrow or bright colors or patterns or tailored or retro or ladylike or boho or menswear-influenced? Are we still wearing studs? Are shoes still more important than handbags? Do the blogger girls still go on about Celine?
I think that at a certain point, we all know what we like to wear. People who insist that they love to “experiment” with fashion are just excusing themselves for needing to shop. But that’s okay with me.
I’ve traded my fashion-driven anxiety for a more fundamental anxiety about my body. It’s much cheaper. And all the time I once spent looking at fashion is now squandered on tumblr, a paralyzing addiction that has turned me into a vegetable. At least it doesn’t involve my credit card.
I think it’s safe to say that the fashion and beauty industries are based on insecurity. They must constantly appeal to and promote our insecurity in order to satisfy their shareholders. But my depression has suppressed my insecurity. I think this is a benefit.
I’m hoping that Michelle Bachman and Mrs. Palin will provide some joy for me in the coming months, joy that for the moment is mostly supplied by the Real Housewives and the Casey Anthony murder trial. It’s a perverse joy that springs from the sheer staggering awfulness of horrible people exhibiting their horribleness.
Max used to love watching Sean Hannity on Fox news, and it drove me nuts. Now I remember the happy smirk on his face and I understand: When the usual things in life fail to bring pleasure, the theater of human stupidity is a valuable diversion.