Today is my last day of Easter holidays and I can't wait until the amount of caffeine I'm drinking directly relates to the amount of activities I'm doing once again. Right now I'm sitting at my piano trying to write but desperately needing to run up and down the stairs or something to run off finishing my third coffee for today. Why do I do it. I don't know.
Anyway so this is my outfit today. As I was getting dressed this morning it suddenly occurred to me that I own perhaps one or two items of clothing from a retail store, bought 'unused' or whatever. I wear clothes from Savers or op shops but mostly I source my clothes from my sisters' magnificent wardrobes (sometimes by stealth but mostly above board). I didn't become really interested in clothes until about two years ago when I suddenly realised that dressing up is one of the greatest joys in this life, and by then my significantly more fashionable sisters had already collated quite a spectacle of a clothing collection. Easy street.
I like wearing other people's clothes, or 'used' clothes from op shops. Not only is it cheaper and more environmentally conscious or whatever but it is electric too - experiences and memories are already connected to the fabrics and patterns and you are about to add your own, as soon as you walk out the front door.
Other people's clothes smell like them too. Today I'm wearing my friend's Hard Rock Cafe tshirt and it smells like him. Weird but cool. I wear my mother's clothes too sometimes, especially from when she was younger, and they smell like the seventies. They smell like her favourite perfume that my Dad bought her twenty years ago and still buys her now. And I feel like the good vibes from those memories and those times seep into my system through the fabric and the smells and the feeling of the dress or shirt falls all over me and all around me like a shield.
Always wear other people's clothes. It's like being hugged.
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