The truth is, I work for a certain clothing company (from here on out referred to as Company X) where I am required to wear their clothes--minus shoes--every day. Because there is such a strict dress code, I am also given a minimum of 50% off for all their styles, and receive a $300 clothing bonus twice a year. An $80 pullover becomes an affordable $40--a $22 casual striped mid-length tee becomes a paltry $11. And during the holiday season, our company sends out a massive discount packet (last year's was probably around 30 pages) of styles at an extra discount ($75 dresses for $12, 3 button downs (originally priced at $52 each) for $40, and so on). So obviously, when I am surrounded by fashionable co-workers in a fashionable company, I end up buying almost all of my clothing from Company X. Almost as in...98%.
The thing is, when I first started, I grappled hard at keeping my former style, which varied depending on my mood (vintage bohemian one day, old school preppy the next). But as more and more of my closet became crammed with Company X's apparel, my "civilian" threads got pushed to the black hole of my dresser. I stopped buying clothes from other stores because, in my mind, what was the point? I have to wear Company X's clothing five days a week, and I stopped going out to parties and clubs once I moved to Maryland.
Now, I sometimes force myself to not wear anything by Company X when I am not at work. And it's painful--horrible. Nothing seems to fit right and the cuts seem wrong on everything. There are a handful of items that I can still wear and feel good in, but strangely, those are all men's plaid button up shirts that I just wear long and open with a pair of skinny jeans, white t-shirt, and Dr. Marten's.
Sometimes, I drag Dean along to a shop, insisting, "I swear, I'm going to buy something this time. I PROMISE." It's all in vain. I stomp around the store with a pleading, pitiful look on my face, sometimes moaning, "Oh my god, all I want is a tank top. A TANK TOP!" Dean will hold up some examples with a hopeful expression, but I just end up waving the items away in despair. Um, did I mention that shopping with me can a dramatic, frustrating affair? I make Dean come with me because I need the company and he's such a good sport. His only plus is that for every item that I choose to try on, he gets to choose one for me, as well. This has turned into a deliciously evil sport for him. So while I am fretting over a gorgeous Rag and Bone cardigan, he is creeping up behind me with a leopard-print pants suit and his camera phone ready. I have actually refused to try on clothes that I like because of the outfits he has chosen as his prize.
Um...I just spent thirty minutes trying to find some examples of my current fashion style, but I only could find like, three outfits, which is pathetic. So please enjoy viewing these two awkward photos that I took while testing out the remote for my DSLR when Dean and I took photos for our Christmas card last year....
This title is from "Clone" by Metric
back to that photograph
can you clone me?
i look like everyone you know now
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