I shudder every time I hear the word “Normal” because it reminds me that this is not it. Nothing about the current situation is normal. Nothing that I’ve been doing this past month and a half is normal.
In what seems like a lifetime ago, I would wake up, open my closet and look forward to fashioning a new ~look~. I even made a Whatsapp group called “Fancy Dress” with two of my best friends to exchange pictures of outfits we (Read: I) throw together every day.
I moved back home from Paris a little less than a year ago, and I’ve deliberately avoided buying clothes since then. Who knew that being on a student budget in a ridiculously expensive city like Paris, and owning just enough clothes to fill two small drawers would teach you lessons in moderation?
I learnt that you don’t need to own a shit ton of clothes to experiment with outfits. After a couple of years’ of trial and error, I’ve finally developed a very wholesome relationship with clothing myself. I no longer care if it looks good, as long as I feel good, I’m okay.
This, of course, was pre quarantine.
Up until a week ago, the three outfits that I had been wearing on repeat hadn’t seen the inside of my cupboard for over a month. They would go from being worn, to being washed, to being ironed, and back to being worn once again. That’s when a friend of mine prudently asked me why I had been wearing the same white Levi’s t-shirt for a week straight on a daily video call check-in. It dawned on me then – putting on clothes has always been a way for me to express myself, but lately, neither have I had the energy, nor have I felt the need to do it. I didn’t care if I was looking good right? But I wasn’t feeling good either.
So, in a bid to take a tiny step back towards my normal, I began waking up and getting dressed no go nowhere, actually, to go anywhere, but here. And it’s made all the difference.
I find it necessary to state that being accused of vanity has always made me incredibly uncomfortable. As someone who has fought desperately to be recognized for her merit and not appeal, posting pictures of myself here seemed contradictory to my cause.
There’s one particular sentence in Trick Mirror by Jia Tolentino that has been on my mind ever since I began writing this post. “Teenage heroines showed me who I was afraid of becoming – a girl whose life revolved around her desirability, who was interesting to the degree that her life spun out of control”. I’ve been thinking about this for longer than is necessary and I’m still not quite sure if I’ve understood how to untangle the ambiguity between doing interesting things and being interesting. But until I figure that out, here’s my week in 7 outfits.
DAY 1
DAY 2
DAY 3
DAY 4
DAY 5
DAY 6
DAY 7
okay chalo 