You Wanna Know Something that Gets on My Nerves?
Blog Posted by
Just That Archaic Poet: 2/3/2014 12:30:00 PM
This is totally off topic and perhaps more than a little random, but you wanna know what gets on my nerves? Yeah, I know, besides that, though! This concept of "Celebrity Stylists"; I mean, seriously, WTF? You're how old, exactly, and you NEED someone to dress you? I don't know about you guys, but I haven't had a stylist since my mom stopped picking out my clothes for me in grade school. It's kinda pitiful that these people seemingly cannot dress themselves lol.
In high school, my style was "grunge" (hey, it was the 90's; Nirvana, Kurt Cobain and the whole Seattle music scene was a major influence over my developing brain.) Weather permitting, I always wore my tattered grey cardigan sweater with the big "smiley face" button fastened en lieu of a brooch. Later I added a black pentagram. My backpack was adorned with many different odd buttons and patches, my most notorious one being the "Satan is a lesbian" sticker that I hot-glued right beside my "Question Authority" button. That one really got people riled up, but I never got in trouble for it, weirdly enough. Then I discovered Marilyn Manson and quickly became a grungy "Goth" hybrid. I had my style down pat: I made the whole "just crawled out from a cemetery" carrying a vintage metal "Care Bears" lunchbox motif work and look chic (shut up, Jill, lest we forget the "tassel" incident!)
Having a huge collection of band t-shirts to select from (some quite shocking and offensive; kids would NEVER get away with this today, sadly) in addition to many chains on my wallet and gaudy macabre jewelry, I was your quintessential angst-ridden teenager with an outlandish fashion sense. My parents, naturally, HATED it, especially when I dyed my hair pink or purple; that really tore them up! I cut up some of mom's black panty-hose, making sure they were full of runs and tears, attaching them with safety pins to my t-shirt and making sure to cut out finger holes. My peers gave me hell, but I was undaunted. Luckily I found a fake lip ring to add to the overall effect. If you look through my pics, you'll see one of me from high school, sporting a "Beware of God" shirt, with my long hair and dog collar. Ah, what fond memories! My classmates may have ridiculed me mercilessly, but no one ever laid a finger on me; they were too frightened lol. I also wore this formidable silver claw ring which looked like it could take out an eyeball. Not long after that, I went through a "glam" phase, but we best not talk about that!
So basically I think this notion of celebrities needing stylists is ridiculous. That tells me they never had their own unique style to begin with, and need outside support to maintain some kind of specific "look".
You know what my "look" is now? One word: COMFORT! Pajama or track pants, nice, plain t-shirts. No more combat boots; just simple ol' Nike's or sandals/flip-flops. Besides, you can't get away with that when you're almost 35; it just looks sad and desperate. I've already done the whole "shock value" thing; now, I just choose to blend in with the rest of the sheep. It's not titillating anymore to be stared at in scorn, bafflement and contempt; you know what I mean, Vern? ;)