dressing for success
today i wore colors...
i've always worn black... it goes with everything, and i don't have to think about it. but lately, as part of my recovery, i am doing my best to implement colors in my wardrobe. since the diagnosis of dysthimia and depression, it made sense that i always wore black before... it reflected my mood. part of the treatment is implementing behavioral changes that will help me feel good about myself. (feeling good about myself is not something that comes easily to me, as i have spent all my life peeking at life through dark clouds.) naturally, sartorial changes had to be made as well. not major ones, but little things... like trying new colors, styles, etc.
i hate shopping for clothes or shoes. there's so many choices, so many stores. i don't follow the latest trends, for they change as soon as they are concieved. it's a futile endeavor to keep up with what's the latest. and i often asked, why bother? someone is always trying to sell me something. this has nothing to do with depression. i've never been an admirer of fashion, nor all the marketing that goes with it in fashion magazines, ads, and so on. plus, i don't need any more help feeling bad about myself, i do that already, naturally. the fashion and advertising industry thrives on peoples insecurities and desire to be accepted. we all want to feel our best, sure. but ads have a way of mutating this basic human need by manipulating images, tapping into the collective subconscious. spaulding gray said, "there is always the carrot and the bigger carrot, desire and more desire". it never ceases to amaze me how we fall for the ads, how we buy into the images we see. it's hard to avoid all the ads... they are ubiquitous, from the moment i wake up i am bombarded by images of the ideal - whether it's the ideal body, the ideal car, the ideal furniture, the ideal lifestyle. wade davis clearly pointed out, we live in a "culture of desire".
as a woman i've always tried to define my own sense of self, and i make conscious choices everyday not to fall for the aesthetic that is forced upon me wherever i look. it bogles my mind how women have such self loathing. i am not immune to this. we see ourselves as parts instead of as complex, whole beings. we focus in on one aspect of our bodies, whether it's our belly (it's never flat enough), or our thighs (it's never the right shape), or our weight (if only i could lose 5, 10, 20 pounds, i'd find eternal happiness finally!). it's insane! one day, i woke up and realized, how much self loathing am i going to inflict upon myself for the rest of my life? enough already! i don't want my daughters to grow up thinking they are never enough, never thin enough, never pretty enough, never well dressed enough, never tall enough, never sexy enough. i don't want them to spend their days wishing they were something else, continually reaching for the brass ring, the ideal that does not exist. as their mother, i need to set the example. my mother has set for me dangerous examples which i am now trying to undo, hours and hours of therapy, and reading, and healing, everyday, every moment. i love my mother, and i wish she would love herself. the cycle of self loathing ends here with me.
so. i don't go to malls, i don't take the kingston trio to malls. they are young and impressionable. when we watch TV and see ads, i always ask them, "what do you think they are selling?" isa and raffy are keen, but juju wants everything she sees.
my idea of shopping is... if i'm walking down the street and see something in a store window and the price is right... then i'll take it. if i don't see anything, then i probably don't need it. i call it cosmic shopping... if something is meant for you, it will find you. and i had such a cosmic shopping experience last night. found a pair of shoes in the window of a buy-sell-trade store. size was just right. price? $18.50... about as much as i'm willing to spend on shoes. i'm still a woman, i like nice things. so i got the shoes. today i wore them... i'm even color coordinated! i'm wearing light blues, and beige and not a smidgeon of black. i'm feeling quite satisfied. but there's also an alterior motive.
i see my therapist today, and i want to prove my progress. look at me, i'm improving, i'm wearing colors! please, don't put me on meds! despite what i know now about depression, i don't want to admit defeat by having to take prescription meds. i know it doesn't make sense. taking meds doesn't mean failure. but there's a part of me that still wants to heal without the prozac, or whatever. there's a part of me that thinks, if i start taking the meds, then i somehow concede defeat. i'm hoping she'll see my new shoes, and buy the image. why yes, you seem fine! nice shoes!
anyway, despite it all, i obviously still need help. i'm working on it...
i've always worn black... it goes with everything, and i don't have to think about it. but lately, as part of my recovery, i am doing my best to implement colors in my wardrobe. since the diagnosis of dysthimia and depression, it made sense that i always wore black before... it reflected my mood. part of the treatment is implementing behavioral changes that will help me feel good about myself. (feeling good about myself is not something that comes easily to me, as i have spent all my life peeking at life through dark clouds.) naturally, sartorial changes had to be made as well. not major ones, but little things... like trying new colors, styles, etc.
i hate shopping for clothes or shoes. there's so many choices, so many stores. i don't follow the latest trends, for they change as soon as they are concieved. it's a futile endeavor to keep up with what's the latest. and i often asked, why bother? someone is always trying to sell me something. this has nothing to do with depression. i've never been an admirer of fashion, nor all the marketing that goes with it in fashion magazines, ads, and so on. plus, i don't need any more help feeling bad about myself, i do that already, naturally. the fashion and advertising industry thrives on peoples insecurities and desire to be accepted. we all want to feel our best, sure. but ads have a way of mutating this basic human need by manipulating images, tapping into the collective subconscious. spaulding gray said, "there is always the carrot and the bigger carrot, desire and more desire". it never ceases to amaze me how we fall for the ads, how we buy into the images we see. it's hard to avoid all the ads... they are ubiquitous, from the moment i wake up i am bombarded by images of the ideal - whether it's the ideal body, the ideal car, the ideal furniture, the ideal lifestyle. wade davis clearly pointed out, we live in a "culture of desire".
as a woman i've always tried to define my own sense of self, and i make conscious choices everyday not to fall for the aesthetic that is forced upon me wherever i look. it bogles my mind how women have such self loathing. i am not immune to this. we see ourselves as parts instead of as complex, whole beings. we focus in on one aspect of our bodies, whether it's our belly (it's never flat enough), or our thighs (it's never the right shape), or our weight (if only i could lose 5, 10, 20 pounds, i'd find eternal happiness finally!). it's insane! one day, i woke up and realized, how much self loathing am i going to inflict upon myself for the rest of my life? enough already! i don't want my daughters to grow up thinking they are never enough, never thin enough, never pretty enough, never well dressed enough, never tall enough, never sexy enough. i don't want them to spend their days wishing they were something else, continually reaching for the brass ring, the ideal that does not exist. as their mother, i need to set the example. my mother has set for me dangerous examples which i am now trying to undo, hours and hours of therapy, and reading, and healing, everyday, every moment. i love my mother, and i wish she would love herself. the cycle of self loathing ends here with me.
so. i don't go to malls, i don't take the kingston trio to malls. they are young and impressionable. when we watch TV and see ads, i always ask them, "what do you think they are selling?" isa and raffy are keen, but juju wants everything she sees.
my idea of shopping is... if i'm walking down the street and see something in a store window and the price is right... then i'll take it. if i don't see anything, then i probably don't need it. i call it cosmic shopping... if something is meant for you, it will find you. and i had such a cosmic shopping experience last night. found a pair of shoes in the window of a buy-sell-trade store. size was just right. price? $18.50... about as much as i'm willing to spend on shoes. i'm still a woman, i like nice things. so i got the shoes. today i wore them... i'm even color coordinated! i'm wearing light blues, and beige and not a smidgeon of black. i'm feeling quite satisfied. but there's also an alterior motive.
i see my therapist today, and i want to prove my progress. look at me, i'm improving, i'm wearing colors! please, don't put me on meds! despite what i know now about depression, i don't want to admit defeat by having to take prescription meds. i know it doesn't make sense. taking meds doesn't mean failure. but there's a part of me that still wants to heal without the prozac, or whatever. there's a part of me that thinks, if i start taking the meds, then i somehow concede defeat. i'm hoping she'll see my new shoes, and buy the image. why yes, you seem fine! nice shoes!
anyway, despite it all, i obviously still need help. i'm working on it...
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