I’m convinced that I suffer from multiple personality disorder based on the fact that one part of me worries about how old I am and the other half of me seems to flout convention, and do things that teenagers do.
To substantiate my claim I cite the example of my undying infatuation with Glee, Gossip Girl and Chuck from Gossip Girl.
Oh how I love these frivolous shows (and Chuck).
I read somewhere that the re-launch of 90210 was a flop because of Gossip Girl. Audiences in droves wondered why they would watch chaste, sexually repressed teenagers when they could be watching highly sexualized (and over sexed) teenagers living the high life in Manhattan.
So I’ve been casually and unashamedly enjoying these shows, until one TV promo last week stated that Gossip Girl is a teen sensation…A teen what? I looked at LSH, who looked wide eyed and smirking, back at me. Embarrassed, I mumbled sulkily, “Not teenage show, perfectly reasonable show for someone of my age…be in love with,” while pursed lipped and stamping my feet indignantly.
The irony is not altogether lost since high school was such a total nightmare for me.
Let it not be said, however, that I have not moved on in other areas of my life. For instance, I now cook and clean (something I never did as a teenager). I also have better, and vastly different, taste in clothes. The fact that grunge/heroin chic was considered a style when I was a teenager is not the point.
I am, still, a fan of black, but not heroin chic, sad, might slash my wrists if I don’t get a hit – black, but rather, what I would consider creative industries black. I do like to mix up my black with white, red and grey. Not at the same time of course - that would just be crazy! I have also been a long fond fan of folds, angles, zips, buckles and anything remotely architectural. Not in an S&M kind of way either, inbut a subtle, hint of punk kind of way. Dogstar is my fashion solution, encompassing all these elements. I also know many others who are deeply in love with Dogstar, so we gush over each other’s clothes, which is great as most of the time, we wear the pieces so differently.
So, in need of a quick wardrobe pick me up, LSH and I popped to Dogstar on the weekend. Expecting a nice relaxing experience I was confronted by women suffering from the fashion equivalent of my love for teenage TV shows. These women were likely 30 years older than me shopping for shirts and pants that had buckles, folds, layers and other creative elements. I was perplexed. Had some fashion eclipse happened over night? I couldn’t help but wonder, quite ungenerously, why are you in this store?
Not only did they look out of place in store, but they hogged the attention of the sales woman, rudely asking her to fetch the larger size of the clothes they had in their fitting room. I could probably let that pass, but one woman hogged the mirror as well. Boobs and buttocks filled the shared slimline mirror outside of the individual cubicles. Usually I can rearrange the folds in my shirts, pants and dresses in peace, but no, not this time, no I had to guess whether the fold were in flattering spots, or not. No amount of popping my head over a shoulder or ducking and weaving left or right was enough of a hint to make this woman move out of my line of sight so that I could see if, in fact, my bum did look big in this.
At one point her mother (oh yes the woman who was the same age as my mother, brought her own mother) leant against the mirror as she waited for her daughter to reappear from behind the curtain of her cubicle. Only after I returned her stare, while swaying from side to side like a tennis player looking to return a serve, did she move. Goodness knows what she was thinking. Perhaps she thought I was doing some sort of post-modern interpretive dance.
I escaped unscathed, if not a little more limber, with two wonderful new pieces to add to my collection of my favourite clothes. But honestly, it was one of the most ridiculous shopping experiences of my life, one that wouldn't have been so painful had the store been filled with the usual like-minded individuals I regularly encounter while there.
Meh. Just pass the brown paper bag – the shopping one that is.
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