Bah Humbug

Hi there. As you can see, my previous blog has been updated. I got a very angry comment from a very angry person saying that I was violating their copyright and trademark and what have you because I used the words Fashion and Liberation together. You can see the comments on the previous post.

So, not to get myself in trouble, I changed it. But seriously, it’s actually laughable. You would think that this person, after reading the entire blog entry, would know that it had, and still hasn’t, have anything at all to do with whatever it is that they have the copyright on.

I really do think people should stop taking themselves so seriously.

And now for my future posts, a disclaimer: ANYTHING I WRITE ON THIS BLOG IS MY THOUGHTS AND OPINIONS. IT HAS NOTHING WHATSOEVER TO DO WITH ANYTHING ELSE, EXCEPT IF IT IS EXPRESSLY STATED OTHERWISE.

So, boo on you. No need to get your knickers in a twist. it’s clear I wasn’t trying to steal publicity from you. It’s clear I didn’t maliciously seek you out. I really don’t spend my days, searching for possible copyright infringements.

Fashion = Freedom of thought?

Can fashion equal freedom? Does it?

Today, I’d like to share some very personal thoughts. I woke up this morning, after tossing and turning all night, battling with nightmares. I got up with a sigh, thinking I don’t have anything to wear and feeling oh so gloomy about the dreams. These nightmares come often. They’re never quite the same, but the underlying theme is always the same. I realised this morning that these dreams are just my subconscious telling me to grow a pair.

These dreams are sparked by insecurity and fuelled by distrust. I have a problem with these issues. I haven’t always been like this, but there have been events in my life that made me this woman. It’s sad, and pathetic, and I’m tired of it. I recently started being needy, and insecure and insanely paranoid. Add to that jealousy, and you have a whole bag of ugly. Ugly that is me.

But as I drank my coffee, pondering my bore of a wardrobe, I saw an outfit in my head. I thought to myself that I could NEVER pull it off. I’m not skinny enough. But, I tried it on anyway. Now my mother is my biggest fan and my worst critic. I love her for that. If I want an honest opinion about whatever it is that I’m wearing, I just walk into her room, and wait for the reaction. So slowly, and filled with dread, I took the long walk to her room, wearing an outfit that I was sure looked horrendous…

Her face lit up, and she said “You look so good. Look how much weight you’ve lost!” So I walked to my mirror and tried to see what she saw. I put on my boots, and my accessories, and tried agin. “Perfect”, she says. Cue the little sister (not so little, being 18 and all) and she delightfully chirps “You look so cute. Like I-could-eat-you-up-cute”. So now, it’s too late to get dressed again, and I just decide to bear it and wear it.

By the time I got to work, the nightmares were forgotten, and I’m feeling the fashionista in me clawing her way back out from the depths that is my dark and twisted soul. And as I sat, reading my emails before we open up shop, I decide that yes, indeed, I really do look good.

With that thought along with the epiphany that even though I’m not Super Skinny, like I long to be, I have lost 10 kilo’s, and that is nothing to scoff at. And that I am worth the praise.

So what I’m trying to say, is that this outfit changed my outlook today. I have made a conscious decision that I will no longer be this pathetic, insecure, sad little shell of the girl I used to be. I am hot. I am beautiful. I am intelligent and talented. And I am done, and I mean DONE, trying to be the girl that would make you not cheat on me. Look, if a guy wants to cheat, he will. No matter what you try to do to stop it. The more you fight it, the more likely it will happen. So I’m not begging for monogamy anymore. I’m assuming it doesn’t need to be asked for. I’m not begging for love anymore. If anyone can’t love me for me, faults and flaws and all, then so be it. I’m better than begging, and I won’t do it anymore.

So yes, I think that fashion can free. It freed me of the insanity that kept filling up my mind. And that is kinda great.

Much Love  

The WaywardMom

My mom is really amazing. No, correction, she’s Amazeballs!

She just bought me a bed.