Who are we really dressing for?
June 22nd 2009 07:51
I defied the recession this weekend and flew down to Melbourne to see Wicked and partake in a spot of shopping. I am now a recession in my own right as a result, but the amazing trench and suede booties I came home with means it was worth the next month of beans on toast. I also found time to stuff myself silly on Lygon Street, as it would have been an Underbelly-worthy crime not to in that town, and what struck me as I sat and people watched (other than how incredibly tight my jeans were beginning to feel after mountains of pasta and red wine) was how incredibly meticulous some women are about their appearance, even on a Sunday afternoon to head to a patisserie. And it made me ask my equally uncomfortably full friend, as women, who exactly are we dressing for?
There was one female in particular who stood out for me and started this train of thought. She would have been in her late 50s, and she was wearing enough make-up to cover myself and four of my friends. She also must have spent hours on her hair, and she was glammed up enough to warrant lunch with Richard Branson, not an afternoon of scoffing cannolis. Similarly two other ladies who would have been attractive if not for their clown-like cosmetic choices had clearly gone to far more effort than was required to catch up over coffee, and it made me realize, these women are certainly not dressing for themselves. In fact, I highly suspect they were dressing for other women.
As a female, I honestly believe that when we go to town on our ensembles, it’s more about other women than it is about ourselves or men. Yes, I have friends whose get-ups are intended to snare a man, but realistically it’s about outdoing the other women around in order to do so. I find this totally fascinating. I know myself that if I am having a bad hair/bad body/bad head day, I force myself to put in special effort with every aspect of my appearance because I know that I will spend the walk to and from work, and any time spent encountering any other human – sorry, make that female – will only serve to worsen my opinion of myself if I do not. If I am not feeling top of my game, I will wistfully gaze at the majority of other females I see and wonder how someone as hideous as myself dared to leave the house.
I do believe that fashion is ultimately about you – and if it’s not, and your friends haven’t had the decency to tell you that you can’t pull off a jumpsuit (and let’s face it, other than Megan Gale, really who can?) then you need to make some pretty speedy adjustments to your attire, and your headspace. Fashion should always reflect your own taste and style, but I do think that even then, we as women are so conditioned to feel the pressure of beauty over everything else, that we do dress to outdo each other nine times out of ten. I love to look good, and I have learned from my fashion mistakes to only buy what suits me, but secretly and in total honesty, it’s pretty fabulous to know you look better than the next person, isn’t it?
There was one female in particular who stood out for me and started this train of thought. She would have been in her late 50s, and she was wearing enough make-up to cover myself and four of my friends. She also must have spent hours on her hair, and she was glammed up enough to warrant lunch with Richard Branson, not an afternoon of scoffing cannolis. Similarly two other ladies who would have been attractive if not for their clown-like cosmetic choices had clearly gone to far more effort than was required to catch up over coffee, and it made me realize, these women are certainly not dressing for themselves. In fact, I highly suspect they were dressing for other women.
As a female, I honestly believe that when we go to town on our ensembles, it’s more about other women than it is about ourselves or men. Yes, I have friends whose get-ups are intended to snare a man, but realistically it’s about outdoing the other women around in order to do so. I find this totally fascinating. I know myself that if I am having a bad hair/bad body/bad head day, I force myself to put in special effort with every aspect of my appearance because I know that I will spend the walk to and from work, and any time spent encountering any other human – sorry, make that female – will only serve to worsen my opinion of myself if I do not. If I am not feeling top of my game, I will wistfully gaze at the majority of other females I see and wonder how someone as hideous as myself dared to leave the house.
I do believe that fashion is ultimately about you – and if it’s not, and your friends haven’t had the decency to tell you that you can’t pull off a jumpsuit (and let’s face it, other than Megan Gale, really who can?) then you need to make some pretty speedy adjustments to your attire, and your headspace. Fashion should always reflect your own taste and style, but I do think that even then, we as women are so conditioned to feel the pressure of beauty over everything else, that we do dress to outdo each other nine times out of ten. I love to look good, and I have learned from my fashion mistakes to only buy what suits me, but secretly and in total honesty, it’s pretty fabulous to know you look better than the next person, isn’t it?
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