Tasteless
I had no taste as a child.
My friend, Chelsea, had an overabundance of taste. As a 12-year-old she knew exactly what was stylish and what was worthlessly trite. Chelsea knew about art and designers and more importantly, had tons of opinions about what she liked and didn’t. She rolled her eyes all the time, and wore make-up and everything!
I, on the other hand, wore anything funny. I slathered myself in Bill The Cat t-shirts and jaunty hats. I religiously wore a jean jacket covered in “church lady” buttons and Rodger Rabbit enamel pins to school every day. Plus I was a little fat. My clothes had nothing to do with my body - I may as well have been wearing big cardboard signs that said “HEY, did you watch VH1’s half-hour comedy hour last night? I did.”
So when I met Chelsea, it was a revelation and I wanted to be just as cool and hip as her. I tried and tried to understand her strict list of DOs and DON’Ts, which were innate to her, but seemed impossibly random to me. I often tried to mimic her style - which always turned out badly, as I generally overshot the mark by miles. Chelsea would wear a French nautical-themed t-shirt and pencil skirt, and I’d wear a sailor suit. (Sadly, this is not a lie.) I was a Bull in her Esprit boutique. Needless to say, Chelsea hated me.
I was still determined to start dressing better, but for me dressing and playing dress up were dangerously close. As I grew up, they got even closer, until it became one big lump of feathery, high-heeled horrible. I went through a 10-year process of elimination to figure out what “works” and what is “embarrassing to my friends”. But eventually, the ridiculous parts fell away, until I was left with what passes as my current style - normal clothes put together like costumes, or costume pieces worn casually as normal clothes. I still don’t have a list of DOs and DON’Ts, like Chelsea did, but I don’t mind still looking ridiculous now and then in the spirit of experimentation.
What happened to Chelsea? She grew up hateful and ODed on Ritalin and Sleeping pills.
No! Jokes! She is getting her Masters at RISD.
Why did I start this? I don’t remember. I guess the point is not that neither of us figured out the one true right way to be, but we both figured out what works for us. I didn’t have to change or be like someone else to look good, I just had to keep trying stuff to see what I liked best. I even still wear funny t-shirts.