A recent post by Dapper Kid got me thinking about what significance actual clothing had. (If we wanted to talk about the significance of the fashion industry and 'style' had, let me refer you to a currently at 4000 word essay in which multiple late nights poured their befuddled thoughts into). The other day my older brother mentioned that most of the clothes in my closet are probably less than a year old - true, also explaining the sorry state of my wallet, which has less money in it than it costs - so I have picked something slightly over 13 months old, and depicted it in a style truly peer to peer with my other brother. Who is 6. I could take a few coloring lessons.
Every piece of clothing tells a story. More than the furniture in your home, because you only spent half your time at home, and half of that is already spent sleeping. More than your new bag or phone, because it's such a constant in your life it's hard to remember a few specific events, and even then you wouldn't attribute it to your phone, as such: "Oh this phone! This phone saw me through Christmas, and Chinese New Year, and the first day of the school, the second as well. You know what? The third too! ..."
You change clothes everyday, and if you change outfits every time, you'll have a lot of storage space for memories. Each piece has a few stories to tell: a) how you got it: I splurged on the skirt as a Christmas present to myself, rushing over to the Zara at Liat Towers after a rehearsal; b) people's reaction to it: mother thought it looked too suggestive; c) every other event you have worn it to: (i) A leopard print t-shirt and the skirt, with boots from Far East, during Christmas 2011. I also mark this as the start to my extensive consumerism habits. (ii) A white collar tee and snakeskin brogues, missing a blazer, for my friend's confirmation somewhere in the middle of 2012. (iii) The ever ubiquitous - and hence the nagging. anxious need at the back of my ear telling me to wear it as soon as possible - Bart Simpson pullover, together with ASOS boots I bought in a haul I considered my birthday present. Outfit post soon to come.
Perhaps one of these days, when I stop being a sad, lazy, waste of energy, I'll attach a piece of paper to every clothing I have, and write down every event I went to with it. The silver pullover I wore to church, when I still took outfit shots with a small, digital camera; the silver pullover I wore to church again, when I sat on a concrete block and got my berms dirty; and the silver pullover I wore to the Marcellie Emerge event that got me sweating like a shopaholic with a Zara sale at 70% off.
Of course, I'll put that in after I create a system that gets the right clothing back to the right hanger with the right note, and doesn't frustrate me when I'm having one of my late night alone parties. Just me, my closet, and my mirror. And some Diplo. Show some love.