My month began with a second violent attack from my formerly very sweet cat. The vet said she is physically healthy and we shelled out for extra T4 blood testing to check out her thyroid but everything was normal. It turns out that if she smells another cat or if I dye my hair and it smells like another cat or she sees a bird outside or hears some thunder, it is her instinct to attempt to murder me, and only me, in order to make sense of the world. I showed fear around her, and because her internal logic tells her that afraid things attempt murder (because that is what SHE would do), she became afraid of me. We’re trapped in a ridiculous feedback loop. So my first Fatshion February post was me writing a song about being kicked out of my house while wearing a shirt I borrowed from my mom because I had to evacuate my apartment so that my cat didn’t try to kill me a third time.
I realized I refuse to write about things that I don’t feel like an expert about. I’m an expert about my own anxiety so I can wax on at length about how uncomfortable I feel when anyone walks behind or in front of me. Those closest to me or who have observed me for more five seconds could confidently assess me as someone who is oblivious to her own surroundings but I have a near-debilitating awareness of how people are using the pavement around me. Trying to figure out which way people are going, why they’re walking in a completely unintuitive diagonal line, why I am the bad guy when I need to tell people to not fucking stand at the top of an escalator, these are things I ruminate on enough that I feel fine with talking about them.
SERIOUSLY, DO NOT STAND AT THE TOP OF AN ESCALATOR. I’m an expert on not doing this, and quietly yelling at people about in a panicked way even though I know I am in the right about this supposedly self-explanatory concept.
I work as a person who does music but I wouldn’t dare talk about it even though it consumes every aspect of my life because I know so many people who know so much MORE about music than I do. I have a deep passion and interest in linguistics, but I could say something wrong so readily.
I know a lot about being fat, but probably not the MOST about being fat. I leave that to anonymous internet commenters who are weirdly obsessed with the bathroom habits of fat people. Here is the premise of Fatshion February: Fat people share photos of their outfits. The rest of the months of the year I actually don’t wear clothes so it works out pretty well.
I actually pushed myself to participate in Fatshion February 2016 because I am usually too busy or I don’t get properly dressed enough to merit participating. This year, even though I have to wear some combination of t-shirt and jeans/slacks/trousers at least 4 days a week, I thought I’d make a bigger attempt because it seems a lot of people are sick of it just being a time for people with lots of blog sponsorships and a DSLR to show what kind of cool stuff they got for free and summarily needed to pretend they actually wore somewhere. There is definitely a use in that type of blogging because most people won’t shell out for really wild or big ticket pieces and it’s often the only way we get to see them worn. It’s definitely more aspirational than inspirational or relatable.
No matter how much people try to compartmentalize fashion and politics, it seems they’re inexorable. This is because of things like a correlational relationship between low income and fatness and how there is a wage gap between thin women and fat women. I think it can be kind of alienating to see outfit post after outfit post of people who don’t seem like they have restrictions due to things like work or income. It definitely makes me feel worse on days I have to wear t-shirts and jeans because of how much work I put into looking feminine to compensate for being fat.
By the way, here is a list of words so far that my spell check thinks is fake: sponsorships, commenters, aspirational, relatable, correlational. It’s sick of my millenial (also not a real word) buzzword bullshit.
Documenting my boring work outfits and not just my weird day off outfits has helped me identify a lot of issues I have with my wardrobe. I don’t dress like an adult. I probably should. I’ll turn 30 in 2 years. I do think that all my life has been leading up to me getting a job as a pre-k music teacher. I have always dressed for the job I didn’t know I wanted, and then I got it. I need more blazers, sweaters, and skirts that go past the knee. Speaking of dressing like an adult, check out the Totoro dress I wore on Valentine’s Day. I gave my boyfriend a choice between a bodycon velvet number and this, and he chose this:
We went to Chinatown and had dinner at my favorite Vietnamese place, and Martin excitedly bought a (food) steamer afterwards so it went well. We have a steamer now for the making of buns. Martin actually loves anything that produces steam, whether it reduces wrinkles in clothing or makes buns. My Totoro dress is from Hot Topic, size XL, and I never believed I would be shopping at Hot Topic again but those Hot Cash codes create absurdly good deals. From the ages of 11-15 or so I basically lived at Hot Topic. The smell of Nag Champa and plastic makes me nostalgic.
On February 15th I wore what I feel is the quintessential pre-K music teacher outfit, though it is actually kind of against dress code since I’m not supposed to wear skirts. But look at all the animals it has on it! I didn’t buy it with this job in mind. It was a weird etsy find but I definitely didn’t have many opportunities to wear it till now.
2/18. Every time I go thrifting now I keep an eye out for stuff I can wear over my work t-shirts because wearing a t-shirt bums me out. The button-up is from Charter & Banks, a clothing company for ladies in the 40-60 age range. Sounds about right. These jeggings are size 16 and by Democracy, and I don’t like their stupid fake pockets.
On the 21st my good family/friends Ann and Sigourney took me to the art museum for a wonderful lunch and so I could drag them to see Marcel Duchamp’s Etant donne like I do to everyone. My dress is one of my favorites, one that I found when visiting the adorable town of Rye in Sussex. It’s probably from the late 60s or early 70s. I love those batwing collars!
On the 22nd my very cute boyfriend took me thrifting at Philly Aids Thrift and then we had pie at Magpie, a very cute pie boutique on South St. My dress is from The White Pepper and I lobbed off the arms and made a big boob window because sometimes, in this life, you have to make room for yourself. My wonderful Pear made the felted egg beret.
I have to do laundry basically once a week at least because of my having to teach 4 days a week and only having 4 t-shirts. The laundromat I go to is excellent but it’s inconvenient to get a lot of laundry there as it’s about a half mile walk.
Laundry looks on 2/24: thrifted Deletta top in XL, Papaya Weekend skirt in size UK 20. Some ripped tights because I think right now I don’t have any unripped tights.
2/25. I love this dress! It’s probably from the 70s and I bought it at a charity shop in Sheffield. I did teach that day but I was supposed to go to a non-teaching part of my job afterwards. That didn’t pan out due to a power loss issue so I sat in my kitchen playing guitar.
That’s a Connie Converse song called “2 Tall Mountains/Talkin’ Like You”.
On 2/27 I did a concert for the little ones and wore a poodle skirt my mom made for me in 7th grade and this swan sweater I got on a Modcloth Sales group on Facebook.
2/28. The Philly Aids Thrift trip I took the weekend before was very fruitful in that I found this amazing dress, vintage size 11/12. The buttons come undone easily and I flash everyone but everyone’s seen my boobs so it’s fine. The unicorn belt is an Etsy find.
And my leap day outfit is an old Forever21+ dress, from when they were still Faith 21, with a Forever 21 cardigan with poodles on it that I got from a consignment shop:
I have Intentions to review some bathing suits and my glasses since I get asked about them all the time, but I have some Important Stuff going on and I realize I put hours and hours into blog posts that no one reads. I am an Expert at Being Boring.