sweater: Louche, everything else is second handI really do wish clothing could change me fantastically into a library princess with all the riches and animals and and plants and good food in the world but then again I am content with the characterization of that princess through clothing. And I really do wish sometimes clothing could change my life but it already has by giving me the possibility of playing dress up and walking around pretending I am a forties teen ghost in the seventies. Eventually the clothing I pick out wishing I could be such and such, in reality never changes me because those characterizations are part of my person; who I want to be is also who I am. Clothing opens so many possibilities for me and it has always cushioned my depressions because of it and it makes me so, so happy. Realising this, realising who I am has lessened my greed to own things just to own them and the past two years I have carefully picked out things I only really truly want and haven’t regretted one purchase since. I’ve given up on feeling guilty for the huge dress up box that is my wardrobe, because how could I ever make myself feel guilty over something I love so much?

(Especially considering my mostly second hand wardrobe is in sync with my ideologies on consumption.)

Having the possibility of dressing up is an awesome soft and reassuring cushion to fall back on during depression, whether it’s a character because I don’t want to be myself or just a simple play of pattern and colour. Lately it’s been mostly the latter and I’m starting to feel bored and anxious in an exciting way because I can’t wait to get to life again! ☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆     ♡(●⌒∇⌒●)♡     ☆彡　　★彡　　☆彡　　★彡

dress: second hand, boots: shoe discount, sweater: Louche, earrings: second hand

This sweater was expensive to me but after waiting for an hour an a half in freezing and snowy weather for a friend (!) a voice just kept whispering to me ‘treat yourself treat yourself treat yourself’. And so I did. I used to yearn so much for items like these, hating myself because I couldn’t afford any of it but after setting myself limits towards my shopping behavior and ultimately really looking into the workings of it and myself I realized that what I wanted was not the items, but the lifestyle they sold to me; to be able to carelessly spend such and such amount on dresses not even perfectly suited for me but suited for a carefree twenty-something, hip and cool and smooth and funny and sociable and pretty and most of all: happy. I am not even half of that but truthfully? Half of the other I don’t even want to be and, the one I wanted most; happiness, is to be made on my own terms, not clothing. Now, I’m just exasperated that I could ever want items whose price/quality/originality ratio is just not good enough for me, not suited absolutely perfectly, not worth that money at all (for me). Though I still go in hip&cool boutiques like these, touch the fabrics and scowl sadly because it’s a dream that shattered before my eyes, it’ll never be real! I can never buy a dress that will melt all my issues away. Stupidly I still really do wish it could.