Fashion pundits say that our clothes should reflect our personality. We should please ourselves. We should not imitate others because what looks good on another body type may not suit us. Besides, shouldn’t each of us seek our individual identities and walk our own path — with fashion or otherwise?
This Eureka moment came to me rather early in life: Around the time I looked in the mirror as a teenager and realised where I stood on the one-to-ten beauty scale. With a great deal of time and effort I knew I could climb up a notch, maybe even two — but I chose instead to please myself and not that mirror. Whether it was colour, design, fabric, print, combination: If I liked it, I wore it. If not, there was no way I was letting it onto any part of my anatomy!
That put paid to a number of absolutely stunning outfits that were gifted to me by friends and family members who went by their own taste and what was currently the fashion ‘rage’ in the hope of getting this one wayward wearer to become presentable (in their eyes) in public. Their gifts just went into the depths of my wardrobe and never found their way out again while my old favourites were worn again and again, until it was almost like I was in uniform.
The fashionistas around me winced, shut their eyes and protested in long-suffering tones, ‘Not that dress again!’ but I laughed off their comments. I let their presumption in appointing themselves judge, jury and executioner of my fashion sense pass with a careless, ‘Look the other way — admire the scenery!’ And, to add insult to injury, on the rare occasions when I shopped for clothes, I came home with two pieces of the same print or pattern or colour and also bought identical outfits for my friends and for me.
Getting ready for any occasion was a five or six-minute affair for me. The routine was simple: Enter the room, don’t worry about the lights, stick a hand into the cupboard in the dark, pull out whatever is on top of the pile of clothes on the shelf; put it on. Voila! Ready for action! (Think of all the woman-hours saved for better things!)
Everything was going fine until those mega-pixel digital-camera smart phones came on the scene to ruin my party! With everyone chronicling every occasion, there was no way to avoid being in at least a few photographs that were clicked here and there. And since none of the photo-fixated can keep their work to themselves, all those pictures found their way onto Facebook and WhatsApp and WhatNot. I was easily recognisable. Because, whatever the occasion, the dress was the same. And while I believe that no one remembers what you wear when they meet you in person, they do get confused if they look through the book reading pictures, the tea party pictures, the workshop pictures and the reunion pictures and you look the same in every photograph. Was it all on the same day? Was it just one big party? They are confused.
And thus, to prevent that confusion and the questions that follow, a major change has come into my life. Every outing is now planned. ‘What did I wear last time?’ I ponder. ‘What are you wearing?’ I ask my friend, to avoid both of us landing up at the venue in identical outfits.
Too much time and thought and discussion of minute details go into the erstwhile five-minute job of getting dressed.
Nothing is spontaneous. The fun is over.
I’m sure my clothes don’t reflect my personality anymore. But the ‘up-side’ is that I’m happily unrecognisable, especially to myself, in all those unnecessary photographs!
Cheryl Rao is a journalist based in India.
