Spring is here

It's only natural that the weather started getting sunnier right after I've bought myself a lighter jacket for these winter-spring transmission period. I managed to utilize the knock-off military-green jacket for a whole day before I started feeling sweaty and realized that my deodorant-free days are over for this year. Au revoir winter!

I've gotten so used to layering for so many months that to step out of the house with a single layer of clothing leaves me feeling almost naked. To think that in the midst of winter, when it takes me a full fifteen minutes to get dressed, I was longing for the days when I can leave the house without being weighed down by thermal underwear and coats and gloves and scarves. Now that they're here, I've realized that I have developed a sort of inferiority complex about my body. If felt good to hide behind all that fabric and appear as one enormous bulk of cotton and flannel and wool. The clothes that I wear underneath my coat has become my second skin and I can't bear to let others see it.

It is for this reason that I pray for the temperature to drop so that I can put on my coat again and hide while I go out in the open. It is for this reason that I am grateful to see some other beings similarly bundled up despite the mild weather, even if they are people of old age and probably can't stand anything below 30 degrees.

I still am looking forward to stepping out in flip flops and a single layer cotton kameez. I just need some time to get used to the idea again.

Flannel Romancing

I have fallen in love.With my flannel pajama pants.

If I didn't think it was an erosion of my self-discipline, I'd have worn them all day, from the moment I climb out of bed till the moment I crawl back in.

It's made of all-cotton flannel in the warm hues of maroon and navy blue and hangs loosely without pressure on my body to get into better shape. The secret, I think, lies in the fact that I bought them from a maternity store (my pregnant sister has an exact pair). It's a great store to go to since everyone treats you like you're an expectant mother. I also get a huge kick from the strap-on fake bellies supplied in every fitting room. This may sound perverse, but those bellies, strapped on, make excellent built-in bongos. Ha ha.

Back to the beautiful mom-to-be flannels. Instead of an elastic waist band that constantly screams "you're out of shape!", there is a wide band of cotton and spandex that stretches so beautifully without making you look like Ali Baba with his forty thieves tucked into his back pocket. In fact, you could probably fit ten Kate Mosses into one pair of these magic flannels. Yup, that's what I'm going to call them from now. Magic flannels. What a beauty.

Ah my love, I'm counting the hours until I can crawl into bed with you again (pun intended).

Absolute Vanity

There is nothing more painful to witness than absolute vanity. Especially if it's sitting in your office nine to five, dishing out beauty tips to anyone naive enough to ask.

The pain of that transgresses all boundaries known to man.

Shakespeare said...

Shakespeare said...

'...nothing is so common as the desire to be extraordinary.'

...hence the French guy who keeps scouring the world's skyscrapers.
...hence Erikah Badu and her oddly named offsprings.
...hence Gehry's Bilbao project.
...hence the stuffed crab and dead cactus on my desk.
...hence moir.

red

Going out to meet dear Feyza

(in the midst of throwing stuff into my oversized purse filling my water bottle)

Red flowered pinnafore and a red T
Red scarf and a red mp3 player
Red-striped bag and brownish-red loafers.

Wonder what Feyza's gonna be wearing today.

Clothe thee

I know my mom sometimes balks at the way I dress. It amuses me, how she frets about how I look to others. It's not that I don't care. I just can't be bothered to get all dressed up for the grocers' or the lady at the laundromat. Being a female, I do have the desire to look good, but not all the time. Comfort comes first and formost for me, always.
I went through a sort of morphosis during my early varsity days. I started off with wanting to look good, but not exactly knowing how. I occasionally fell into the trap of dressing too comfortably that I tend to be sloppy.
Later, as I learned the tricks and turns of the trends, I found myself concerned with nothing but that - trends. Many a times I found myself looking quite uniformed to some others. That is something my ego utterly despised.
Finally, now, I am completely comfortable with myself. I dress according to how I want to look and feel. Trends do not play much of a role for me, neither is peer pressure. The only conditions I strive to fulfill are those of my religion.
I hope I never break those rules, no matter what the temptations might be.
I can't say that I am at a final phase of my personal fashion trend (everbody has one, by the way) but I am definitely comfortable with the stage I am at.