by ada

Today I wore my Ridiculously Disgusting Yellow Tights. I’m not passionate about clothes, I’m not even interested in them, which is rather an unfortunate attitude for a girl, even if smart, like me. In our society, being simply smart or simply pretty is not enough for survival anymore. You have to be smart and pretty and up to date, you have to cook marvellous while being enviromentally conscious, having strong opinions on everything, being familiar with every new movie, reading all the books that count, having carreer, earning money but living frugal, wearing cute outfits and dating hilarious men, having six homeschooled kids and making your own soap. I guess I already lost the game.

But even if I normally am a jeans with sweater girl, sometimes, quite unreasonably, I get a crush on something extraordinary (ugly). And since the long years of depression have already thaught me to appreciate every small thing that makes me feel happy if only for a moment, I do not resist this desire for wearing crazy clothes anymore. I welcome everything that has the potential to make me feel better.

(And yes, I know that our floor desperately needs some cleaning and my shoes will lose their soles pretty soon.)


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