Tonight, I was laying on my bed like a beached whale after my day at the “hospital” and talking on the phone to my sister. She was telling me about the three t-shirts she bought today and while she was talking, my mind drifted to the thought: “I’m glad I don’t need a tracheotomy.”
What a funny place to be, after a lifetime of shopping! I know it won’t last forever. When everything returns to normal, I’ll probably resume the mindless pursuit of clothes, boots and jewelry with as much vigor as the next addict.
But for now, everything is skewed. Photos of street style are particularly difficult to take seriously. The trendier the outfit, the more I feel that the person should just kill them-self. See the girl above? What’s the point of her, you know? She was told to wear a peak-shouldered jacket and painful high heels, and she complied. So what?!
On the other hand, fashion is not without its power to amuse when times are hard. Even though I have no urge to buy anything, I can still appreciate this jumpsuit for sale by Mom of Shoes:
It is described as: Great 70’s lounge jumpsuit in bold houndstooth print. This is a very high quality piece, feels like wool.
Is she having a laugh or is she curating ironically ugly thriftstore crap? What does the word “great” mean in this context? I don’t get it, but it delivered another little frisson of perverse pleasure, and I use the word “frisson” because it goes so well with the jumpsuit.
Thoughts, complaints, etc?