Independence Day
I fell asleep the other night watching TLC, and woke up to one of my worst nightmares..
(Okay, there very well could be worse, but this one revealed some weaknesses, character flaws, and deep seeded insecurities. In turn that eventually led me to believe that I wasn’t the person I had thought I was, which led to some soul searching.. So, I guess it was a happy ending.)
I digress, I woke up to the show “What Not to Wear”. As bad as that sounds, that isn’t the nightmare part. Nor the fact that I actually watched it from start to finish.
The eppy that was on, they dealt with ME. Or someone who really, could have been me. She was a cute gal, she dressed in what I like to call “Who gives a rats ass?” Which is totally my style. I’m more of a function before fashion type.I don’t put any thought into my clothing, aside from color. Even then the word thought may be stretching it, there. (Apparently, I like stripes.) I like my clothes loose fitting. I don’t like things touching my body. These were her issues as well. Think of grunge meets pajama party. They totally ragged on her for not wearing a bra (er, my girls like to sag in the wind, what there is of them, any way.) They totally wanted her to wear tight jeans and heels! (you should have seen the grossness of the outfit that they picked out for her… eeeeeeeeew.)
When they put her clothes in that garbage can, presumably to be burnt; she protested, just as I would have “There are people who NEED these clothes, these are good clothes!”. She totally reminded me of me… Frumpy bob gone awry haircut, thin frame, kind of lanky….And get this; she worked as a drug and alcohol counselor.(my last 9-5 job.)
They put some make up on her. (Something I haven’t done since college, perhaps high school) Tweezed her brows. (Never have I done that!Tho, I may “need” to.) Slapped a dress on her & brought her home to a party where everyone was waiting. Of course, everyone hugged her and cried, blab blab & blab. There she was, Better than she was before. New and improved. Apparently, in this world all you need to be beautiful is some make up and a stylist.
Suddenly, my head started to flood with all of the times I’ve ever heard someone call me androgynous, cute, or frumpy. Every time Mr. Pipps said, ‘You sure do wear alot of olive drab’. Every time I had someone call me “bro” on the deadlot. (I guess I was the only hippie chick on the planet who carried a skateboard and didn’t wear sun dresses on the lot.)
It was loud, and ringing in that overlapping kind of way; not unlike something directly out of a scary scene, from a movie about a psychotic found on The Lifetime Network. (You know, right before someone boils a rabbit.)
I finally did manage to back to sleep. (And, yes, as much as I hate to admit it, this new found insecurity in my elf/butch self kept me up!) My dreams must have been so traumatic I couldn’t remember them.
However, when I woke up, I did put on a bra. Presumably, if my little girls were holstered, that would make me more of a woman. Neveryoumind I birthed two children, and every month I loose my mind a little bit.
Obviously, all of this was resonating in my head. I never really looked at myself and been so unhappy with the outside.
The day wore on, yard work was accomplished, breakfasts and lunches were made; all the wile a nasty little bit of under wire was jabbing me in the right breast, reminding me of my ’shortcomings’ (or is that longcomings? Who knows.)
With everyone settled and not needing me for a split second, I decided to use the time to edit some photos.
Well, looky what I found on that photo card. (Taken by that sneaky Mr. Pipps)
In all my brown glory. Yes, that is my tookas, equipped in boxer shorts & khaki cargo pants. (It is like my uniform; I wonder what the neurotic folx at What not to Wear would say about that?) And surprise, surprise! I’m wearing stripes! (In a lovely shade of khaki, no less.)
My heart sank. IT WAS ALL TRUE! Every last bit of it.
You see what happened here, right?
I bought the lies. Hook, line and lead sinker. And I paid cash, too.
Once I realized that I played right into their hands, I immediately felt better. From day one (okay, day five, maybe) I knew that I would never be a model, with my own spread in the Sports Illustrated swimsuit edition (An aside, I fully blame my BFF, for undermining any chance I may have had at a carrier as a stripper, by giving me a homegrown tattoo on my thigh, when we were 15 & drunk on Vodka)
So, there I was, with a pocket full of lies. And Lorrissa knows, I have plenty of pockets in my cargo pants to stuff all those lies into. I did what any self respecting elfbutchfrump would do. I got pissed off. At first I was pissed off at myself. As, I like to think I am above petty media manipulation. I hold the illusion that I can think for myself, near and dear to my heart. I like to think I am smarter than that. That lead me to even more pissed-off-ed-ness. Because, in my book; stupid is a far grater evil than wearing khaki 24/7. Stupid is the thing that has lead to the demise of humanity. Stupid leaves children hungry and orphaned, stupid goes to war over inexhaustible greed. I abhor stupid. To see it in myself was utterly devastating.
I don’t know what happened, but I snapped to my senses and became royally pissed off at the machine. (I’m good at being pissed off at the machine.) The machine is the sneakiest of sneaky bastages. Low down and dirty. Prey upon my fears, get into my psyche, and bitch slap me until I’m putty. Pretty good phychlogical torture. (I never said the machine was stupid.)
The moral of my story, learn from my mistakes… In the words of Stuart Smalley , I’m Good Enough, I’m Smart Enough, and Doggone It, People Like Me! Repeat after me….”I’m Good Enough, I’m Smart Enough, and Doggone It, People Like Me! ” Don’t let the machine get inside your brain, not even for a millisecond, as that millisecond can lead to days of self doubt. I’m not saying, by any stretch, that we shouldn’t strive to make ourselves better humans.. Quite the contrary… Wearing khaki really has nothing to do with the quality of our humanity.
Quite appropriately, these were the photos I had sat down to edit.
Now, if you are in the states, you may be celebrating independence day this week.
Join me in declaring independence from the machine.
Whichever one it is that is out to get you. I implore you to stick some M-80s in it’s ear.
& Have an extra helping of potato salad if you want; because the value of your humanity does not hinge on you dening yourself of something you love only to fit an arbitrary mold.
♥
Please note that you were doing yard work when photos were taken…and to hell with the What Not to Wear people…they have no taste, anyway ;o)
July 3rd, 2007 | #
Bravo, sistah! What a great post.
July 3rd, 2007 | #
Yeah! Great post! And for the record, some of us think that heels and make-up are icky, and khakis and boxers and stripes are hot. With two kiddies, apparently someone else thinks it’s hot too. So get on with your elfbutchfrump self.
July 3rd, 2007 | #
I’m with you all the way, cargo pants and all! In fact, I just bought or received 5 (yes, 5) new pairs for my birthday, three different lengths, 2 khaki, one olive drab. What better garments for chasing children I cannot imagine! My cell phone, cash keys all safely pocketed, they go with my cute Skechers sneakers (which show off my handknit socks). O.M.G. What would they say about HANDKNIT SOCKS!!!!?!?!!? Rage agains the machine, baby, I’ll come along anytime!
July 3rd, 2007 | #
Well, the 4th being my birthday and all (and me being presumptuous enough to make that mean something) I hereby decree no more What Not To Wear for Pippi, who is a gorgeous woman inside and out, and who also looks right-nice in khaki! (so there!)
July 3rd, 2007 | #
Right on. Thanks for reminding me why I don’t go to the mall or read fashion magazines. They both bring that little nagging bit of discontentment and self-doubt into my brain. Fuck it; I have bigger things to worry about.
July 3rd, 2007 | #
Have you seen what the hosts on that show wear - I would like to adjust their wardrobe - not to mention see what they wear when they are not on tv. If anyone tried putting my clothes in the trash I would pick it up and beat them about the head with it I swear. I think I watched that program once when it first came on and had the same reaction as you - — then I decided - who the hell cares what I wear except me - which is why I am learning to embrace my curls finally - after 54 years of trying to tame them into what others want them to be - and besides it is differences in the world that make it interesting - AND tight clothes - yuck - I like loose too …..
July 3rd, 2007 | #
i teared up just now
July 3rd, 2007 | #
Some of the combinations they come up with on these style shows make you wonder if the stylists lives in the real world. I mean jeans and heels?
And since Mr. Pipps took those photos, it must mean that he likes your style. So dress as you feel. The key is being comfortable.
July 3rd, 2007 | #
Amen lady!!!
Everytime I stand in front of my closet (ok,laundry basket) and put on black yet again, I’ll think of you in your khaki. I get mistaken for a boy all the damn time.
XOXO
July 3rd, 2007 | #
Oh how I do love you, Pippi. I’m having a hard time with *everything* lately, and the self-image/clothing thing is definitely in the high-difficulty area. I hate the machine with a passion and constantly find myself caught up in the cogs no matter how hard I try and how aware I am of it’s existence. And I get totally confused when it comes to wanting to dress all fashionable (can’t say girly cuz I pretty much *do* dress girly, just not “in style”) - is it me wanting it, or is it me thinking I want it because I’m supposed to? Do I want to look nice for me or for Them? Oy. Too much for my leetle brain today.
July 3rd, 2007 | #
Okay, I agree with you, but I think I’ve taken the next step — I have allowed my five year old to dress me lately. She puts more effort into it than I do, but I’m having trouble with the fact that all my new clothes are pink and that she thinks that I should wear “stilts” because flat shoes are too boring. On the other hand, whenever I wear an outfit she’s picked out for me, I get tons of compliments. . . I can’t even contemplate what that means about what people think about my usual efforts.
July 3rd, 2007 | #
Great post, and great fireworks pictures.
July 3rd, 2007 | #
(Besides, khaki cargo pants are practical. You can’t fight the machine if you’re falling over from wearing tight jeans and heels.)
July 3rd, 2007 | #
YES.
I have a job that I love in a suit- and- tie sort of place. I love the work, love the people, hate the clothes. But that’s okay- I play the part. My favorite part is when people from this world come into my real world- my yarn business, the photography, my sad but earnest gardening attempts, the house overhaul- and see me in BDU cargo pants and sloppy tops, delightfully ugly shoes or my long skirts. It always seems such a shock to them, to know I live my private life “shlumpy” but so very, very happy. Who the hell can do the thins necessary to LIVE in fancy clothes?
I do love that What Not To Wear woman’s hair though- hell yeah for rocking the white streak.
Side notes- there are good comfy bras, honest, but if you aren’t uncomfortable without one, why bother? That’s the only reason I can think of to wear one.
Also- I noticed that you use LJ and your own journal and I was thinking- I do the same thing, but I have to cut and paste between the two, which is sometimes a royal pain in the ass. Are you using some thing- a service or a trick?I’d LOVE some advice on how to post to multiple journals at the same time without all the bother.
July 3rd, 2007 | #
Let me preface my comment by saying that I’m sitting here in sweats, with no bra because I HAVE TO change out of my work clothes as soon as I get home. I do need to wear a bra to work, and cargo pants are out, but I don’t buy into the whole fashion thing. I hate shopping and have a very low tolerance for buying clothes. Maybe three times a year or so I go out and buy a bunch of new things, then just keep on wearing them. I hate that society tells us we have to wear makeup and high heels to be attractive. Maybe that’s why I live in Maine. My sister (a lesbian) used to say that Maine is one of the only places where you can’t tell the lesbians from the straight women because they all dress so “sensibly”.
Thanks for the great post! And the beautiful fireworks pictures.
July 3rd, 2007 | #
That is truly one of my nightmares, next to a show like Mission Organization showing up at my house and exposing my clutter to the world. Why do people allow themselves to be embarrassed like that? There are days when I am so comfortable in my clothes and other days when I’m tugging at them, wondering why I’m wearing what I’m wearing and then I go and give away everything that doesn’t make me feel good when I’m wearing it. I still have an assortment, but mostly a comfortable “uniform” of sorts.
I have never liked the clothing that they’ve picked out for people on those shows, I just don’t get it.
July 3rd, 2007 | #
oh my god! what an awesome post. Amen!
July 3rd, 2007 | #
I dunno poopsie. You seem pretty much like a girl to me. Eff them and their bras too. If I could spend all my days w/o bras I’d do it in a heartbeat. As it is, I can get away with it at home, but in my case, having the girls unleashed while working, well, that could cause some international incidents, amongst other things. And makeup is for sissies. I’ve seen that show, and I think their taste sucks. Bigtime.
July 3rd, 2007 | #
Great post!
Jeans and t-shirts are my usual attire. When my hair was short I got called sir regularly. I hate wearing bras, but have waaay too much upstairs to not wear one. I am a walking fashion faux pas. But I’m a happy one. In comfortable clothes. Boxers rule!
July 4th, 2007 | #
You go, girl! (and isn’t that why we live in Vermont? We can go to the grocery store in our shitkickers and nobody cares. Yay for that.)
July 4th, 2007 | #
Hell, khaki cargo pants are what I wear to work at my library job. With my purple Keen sandals. That’s as dressed up as I get. I have to wear a bra (too much not to), but I found a comfortable one without an underwire. The key? Get a sports bra and just wear it all the time. Mine’s blue!
July 4th, 2007 | #
I don’t think I’m ever mistaken for a dude, probably because of the rack. And sadly, said rack causes me actual discomfort if inadequately constrained or supported. Oh, how I wish the damn things hadn’t asploded when I was pregnant! I do miss my braless days, but the back and neck pain aren’t worth it. Of course, I have to have kinda heavy-duty and sports-type bras, too.
However… cargo pants and men’s jeans, baby. Because, dude, pockets. I really can’t live without pockets. I’ve got to always have a blade, some tools, fire, a writing utensil, some string, some cash, my wallet, and nowadays my damn cell phone, on my person at all times. After all, what if the apocalypse happened RIGHT NOW, like before I hit “submit comment?” I’d be screwed without my pocket stuff. I feel naked without my pockets. That element of style is simply not up for debate.
July 4th, 2007 | #
Love your post- you are beautiful and those who don’t see are the ones you don’t want to hang with anyway!! Olive drab is my favorite color too. It is why we make fun full of color socks, right?!?
July 4th, 2007 | #
Hey, leave the socks alone! LOL! I wear olive drab to SET OFF my crazy color socks. And you may mock me at will. Handspun socks are heaven!
July 5th, 2007 | #
Hey Pippi, I saw that episode and the featured “fashion don’t” woman looked totally fine to me. The bras they gave her to wear were humongous. I thought she looked fine in her before shots. There is nothing wrong with pajamas as day clothing. It was a horrid episode and I felt bad for the girl.
July 5th, 2007 | #
Way to speak up, honey! I know the feeling of never fitting the mold. Watching those fashion shows I always end up feeling sorry for the poor dears who live their petty little lives trying to reach some unattainable goal of beauty.
I’d rather not shave my legs and wear makeup, thank you.
And I’m no less a person, or for that matter a woman, for it.
Thanks for the reminder!
July 5th, 2007 | #
Symeon, you so rock! it’s so easy to get caught by that machine - judging oneself by the standards of others is always so damning to the ego. I’m visisting my family in New Orleans and i always struggle with the southern debutante that i nebvr was but was expected to be. So, I am so with you. I never bring the right clothes, and i’m always too fat, and my hair too wrong. I have to stay kind to myself and remind myself, “You’re okay, you’re great.” Thanks for your great post at the perfect time.
July 6th, 2007 | #
The “guests” on What Not to Wear all come out looking the same. Here’s to being an individual!
July 6th, 2007 | #
You go, Girl (Girl with a capital G). In a society obsessed with a bizarre form of individualism that requires conformity, it’s not easy to truly be independent. I’m sorry that you had to go through that middle of the night torment. I think that not having a television and living in Vermont, I forget that the majority of women in this country actually shave their legs and wear make up. That shaving and make-up stuff is quality knitting time lost. During a recent visit to New Jersey, I noticed some perplexed faces looking down at my unshaven legs sticking out of my mini-skirt. Good to keep people on their toes. BTW, nice tookas shot.
July 8th, 2007 | #
xoxo, from a khaki-clad mumma just over the border.
one day, i will buy another pair of pants. but right now, i’m comfortable. and that machine? just wants to sell you stuff. i don’t want to buy some funhouse mirror reflection of my own insecurity. thanks for this post.
July 10th, 2007 | #
OK, Pippi, I applaud this post but I feel like I’m caught in the middle. On the one hand, I love living in Vermont because looking fab is not a top expectation around here. Vermonters are (a) practical and (b) unpretentious, and for the most part that means that nobody really gives a damn what anyone else looks like. And hell, heels are just not happening here. I have seen WNTW and I always get a kick out of it because it’s so geared toward city dwellers.
On the other hand, I like to look nice. I don’t spend hours in the bathroom prettying up (1 minute makeup, 30 seconds hair) and I don’t have a lot of clothes. But I like to wear clothes that I think flatter me and, as is sometimes seen with people on the show, I think I feel better about myself when I feel like I look good. Our clothes and grooming do make an impression on other people whether or not we like to admit it. (We had some guests at our wedding who let their kids change into sweats for the reception, and I was a little put off that they couldn’t make an extra effort to honor a special occasion, you know? Does that make me shallow? I don’t know.)
When I’m out of Vermont, as I will be this weekend, I’m afraid I do succumb to the fear that I look too rough around the edges and I don’t have the “right” clothes. I will never be a fashion model and I pretty much lives in jeans and clogs. But I have not reached the state of confidence that you seem to have achieved, because I do find myself getting nervous about not keeping up. But only when I’m out of my element and around people who I think DO care. That’s a weakness of mine.
Similarly, I feel this way when I have guests because I think my house is not clean enough or well-decorated enough and my silverware doesn’t match. But when I’m with people I feel comfortable around, I really don’t care. I am who I am and my house is what it is. Surprisingly, people often tell me that they feel “at home” at my house, so obviously, being comfortable with yourself (or your house) is the most important thing, whether you choose to glam it up or play it very casual.
I think the trick is to be true to yourself and find a level of wardrobe that you feel comfortable in. But I think we all have our insecurities and the best thing I have discovered in life is that with every passing year, mine fade a little.
Here’s to old age.
July 11th, 2007 | #
love the post. clothes-something our culture puts so much importance on. not just the machine-i horrify my mother that i STILL wear combat boots-i’m 44. most of my clothes are thrift store clothes and handme downs-and thats okay-recycle baby! besides-i’m real hard on my clothes(active gurl!) -everytime i do buy something new and nice i’ve already trashed it by the end of the first wearing so whats the point? i’m done with the machine!
July 11th, 2007 | #
Pippi, what’s up, I posted a comment before but it didn’t stick! That as a great post and I’m with you all the way. Also. Watch out for the military industrial complex. It’s right up there with the machine!
Be yourself always. XOX
July 14th, 2007 | #
You know what my Mom enjoyed most about my wedding!?! I actually had a dress on. Everyone kept telling her to take a picture so that she could remember that I can upon occasion ‘dress up’…lol
July 25th, 2007 | #
I was out of town for a crappy reason and when I got back I had a lovely package. It was so very generous of you and I love it!
July 28th, 2007 | #
This is a wonderful post, Pippi. I watched that show once when we had cable, and once was enough. I’m sorry to hear that it got to you, it’s amazing how easy it is to push those buttons, isn’t it? No matter how aware you are of the fallacies in messages like that, they don’t lose their hurtful effectiveness.
Um… I’ve started this next paragraph so many times…. man, I could go on (and on and on) for a long time about this subject. I hope I get the chance to meet someday, I think we’ll have a lot to talk about.
xoxox
July 30th, 2007 | #
(I’m a little behind on my blog reading…)
I was just having this conversation with my Little Boy last night. Trying to explain to a 7-yr old child that there really are people in the world who go to work to find ways to make you think you NEED things you don’t need. They try to find ways to make you unhappy with what you have, and to convince you that you need what they’re selling.
And that the same people who will try to sell you a Big Mac are also selling you weight-loss.
What kind of country is this? Where manipulation of children teaches them to try to get them to manipulate their parents, all in the name of consumerism?
July 31st, 2007 | #
Well said indeed! Replace khaki with black, and I’m there.
Strangely though, my ego still has issues on this one. Probably to do with growing up in a part of the UK where being a ‘tomboy’ is unacceptable (whereas excessive make-up and being preggers by 14 is)… and all the continual wearing down (literally) from the family who kept wondering what was wrong with their daughter/niece/cousin.
Makes me fecking angry these days!
August 2nd, 2007 | #