One of a kind fashion fix
September 29, 2006 | 12:00am
I have a piece of advice for anyone who cares to listen. It’s about checking other people out, primarily when girls check out other girls. It’s a reality we live with daily. I suppose it is leftover psycho-sociological baggage from our primitive days – when our instincts inclined us to size up other women, to compare ourselves with others (who’s got the widest hips to bear more children?), and to assess whether some other woman is better, more beautiful, richer, or smarter. And all for the purpose of snagging a suitable partner and, in a few cases, to prove to our parents that they hatched a pretty cool chick after all.
We now live in the modern age but why is it still so hard to admire another woman’s outfit in all sincerity – with no envy, spite, criticism, or pseudo-indifference? When we do compliment another woman’s outfit, shoes, haircut, lipstick or scent, can we honestly say we are doing it just for the sake of doing it? More than likely, there are follow-up emotions that flood our brains: "I wonder where she got that? How come she has it and I don’t? Why does she always look good? I wonder what she does. Only she can get away with that. She must be making a lot of money lately. She probably spends hours in front of the mirror. I would never be caught dead wearing that. I wonder who paid for that. Oh no, I bought the same thing, now I can’t wear mine. Why does she always get the cool things first? How come everything looks good on her? I’m going to look better than her if it kills me. If I had all the money in the world, I’d look like her, too. I wish I were younger. I wish I were thinner. I wish I had bigger boobs. I wish I had thinner thighs. I wish I got paid better. I need a chocolate cake and a martini right NOW, damn it!" The air is thick with the wretched stench of envy, greed and something we’re all quite familiar with… insecurity.
So why would I write about this? Well, I say it is high time we modern gals rise above all that or, at the very least, not look so desperate doing it. I have been a victim, and admittedly, until a few years ago, a villainous culprit myself – and I wanted out.
The first time I realized there was a problem was when I made friends with this Venezuelan girl in New York, Ana Zapata, or AZ as we liked to call her. Before I met her, I was all gummed up with the usual envy/greed/insecurity grime most girls are plagued with. I used to take it personally if someone was dressed better than me! It was a convoluted and totally unhealthy perspective. Imagine the stress! It took someone as individual and conscious as her to make me see the stupidity of my ways.
AZ was what you might call an artsy geek. She preferred to dress androgynously; her thick black hair seemed to just lay on her head with no intentional acrobatics. She wore thick-black-framed Selima glasses, Camper shoes, and eclectic pieces from shops at Nolita, the Lower East Side and, occasionally, Barney’s New York. At that time (the late ’90s), I don’t think anyone could really understand her look, me included. But it was clear to me that she was in a class of her own, and had the finest taste of anyone I’ve ever met (without the blatant use of high-end luxury labels). Her eye for quality was as keen as an owl’s in a fashion jungle. She didn’t just buy something because it was the current trend. She bought something because, in her eyes, it was art. She would spend $200 of her hard-earned money to buy a top that was intentionally made to look like it cost $2. She didn’t dress to look or feel rich, nor to look better than someone else. She didn’t even dress to look good, in a traditional sense. To her, it was about the product’s tactile qualities like the feel, the color, the scent. But most of all, it was about the very idea behind the product. How it was manufactured, what it represented, the thought process that went into its creation, the "energy" behind it. Of course, she managed to do this with such a nonchalant attitude that it came out as if she made her decisions simply on what she thought was "cool." She was ahead of the pack.
Although I couldn’t really adopt her sense of style (we all have our own, after all), there is one thing I learned from her that I truly feel grateful for. In her own way, AZ taught me how to really enjoy fashion and to objectify it from the wearer. She knew she dressed differently from everyone else but not once did I feel her diss my style or clothing choices. She never thought she was above reproach. She would people-watch for the pure enjoyment of observation, not for the sake of dogging people. In fact, the only thing she and I would bitch about is how we couldn’t understand why some people just didn’t make an effort to dress up – that was the biggest disappointment.
She had this great method of checking people out: with a slight smile. I remember, every time we would meet up, after the hello-hugs-and-kisses, she’d look at my shirt then down to my shoes. I never felt uncomfortable because she did it with a smile. Not some weird, mocking kind of smile. It was more like an appreciative, amused kind of smile. Whether I would get a compliment from her or not never really mattered because I knew she simply appreciated my effort to get all dolled up. She wasn’t some fashion editor reserving compliments for only the best get-ups. She knew she was in the same playing field – having fun and experimenting. That’s what it was about.
Fashion is meant to be enjoyed, analyzed, gawked at, and as all outward expressions of style and art, it is open to judgment. When we are "admiring" someone else’s outfit, there is no use pretending with a sideways-stare or a quick glance. By all means, look! Just don’t stare to the point of annoyance. But look – enjoy the show, so to speak. And if you must criticize, it’s best you avoid outward facial expressions of disgust or horror. Some social etiquette should still be in order. On the other hand, if you are the recipient of these looks, keep in mind that it is totally normal. Do not be upset if people check you out. It is not an infringement on your space. We were made to believe that it is impolite, but if done in the right way, it shouldn’t be seen as such.
I know it’s going to be tough to overcome these basic instincts in a snap. It’s going to take lots of practice. And like sports or exercise, with practice, comes a better feeling about yourself. I think it is about time we come to grips with our fashion insecurities, become aware of our inanities, confront them and attempt to overcome them in a classier way. So by all means, look! But remember… say cheese.
We now live in the modern age but why is it still so hard to admire another woman’s outfit in all sincerity – with no envy, spite, criticism, or pseudo-indifference? When we do compliment another woman’s outfit, shoes, haircut, lipstick or scent, can we honestly say we are doing it just for the sake of doing it? More than likely, there are follow-up emotions that flood our brains: "I wonder where she got that? How come she has it and I don’t? Why does she always look good? I wonder what she does. Only she can get away with that. She must be making a lot of money lately. She probably spends hours in front of the mirror. I would never be caught dead wearing that. I wonder who paid for that. Oh no, I bought the same thing, now I can’t wear mine. Why does she always get the cool things first? How come everything looks good on her? I’m going to look better than her if it kills me. If I had all the money in the world, I’d look like her, too. I wish I were younger. I wish I were thinner. I wish I had bigger boobs. I wish I had thinner thighs. I wish I got paid better. I need a chocolate cake and a martini right NOW, damn it!" The air is thick with the wretched stench of envy, greed and something we’re all quite familiar with… insecurity.
So why would I write about this? Well, I say it is high time we modern gals rise above all that or, at the very least, not look so desperate doing it. I have been a victim, and admittedly, until a few years ago, a villainous culprit myself – and I wanted out.
The first time I realized there was a problem was when I made friends with this Venezuelan girl in New York, Ana Zapata, or AZ as we liked to call her. Before I met her, I was all gummed up with the usual envy/greed/insecurity grime most girls are plagued with. I used to take it personally if someone was dressed better than me! It was a convoluted and totally unhealthy perspective. Imagine the stress! It took someone as individual and conscious as her to make me see the stupidity of my ways.
AZ was what you might call an artsy geek. She preferred to dress androgynously; her thick black hair seemed to just lay on her head with no intentional acrobatics. She wore thick-black-framed Selima glasses, Camper shoes, and eclectic pieces from shops at Nolita, the Lower East Side and, occasionally, Barney’s New York. At that time (the late ’90s), I don’t think anyone could really understand her look, me included. But it was clear to me that she was in a class of her own, and had the finest taste of anyone I’ve ever met (without the blatant use of high-end luxury labels). Her eye for quality was as keen as an owl’s in a fashion jungle. She didn’t just buy something because it was the current trend. She bought something because, in her eyes, it was art. She would spend $200 of her hard-earned money to buy a top that was intentionally made to look like it cost $2. She didn’t dress to look or feel rich, nor to look better than someone else. She didn’t even dress to look good, in a traditional sense. To her, it was about the product’s tactile qualities like the feel, the color, the scent. But most of all, it was about the very idea behind the product. How it was manufactured, what it represented, the thought process that went into its creation, the "energy" behind it. Of course, she managed to do this with such a nonchalant attitude that it came out as if she made her decisions simply on what she thought was "cool." She was ahead of the pack.
Although I couldn’t really adopt her sense of style (we all have our own, after all), there is one thing I learned from her that I truly feel grateful for. In her own way, AZ taught me how to really enjoy fashion and to objectify it from the wearer. She knew she dressed differently from everyone else but not once did I feel her diss my style or clothing choices. She never thought she was above reproach. She would people-watch for the pure enjoyment of observation, not for the sake of dogging people. In fact, the only thing she and I would bitch about is how we couldn’t understand why some people just didn’t make an effort to dress up – that was the biggest disappointment.
She had this great method of checking people out: with a slight smile. I remember, every time we would meet up, after the hello-hugs-and-kisses, she’d look at my shirt then down to my shoes. I never felt uncomfortable because she did it with a smile. Not some weird, mocking kind of smile. It was more like an appreciative, amused kind of smile. Whether I would get a compliment from her or not never really mattered because I knew she simply appreciated my effort to get all dolled up. She wasn’t some fashion editor reserving compliments for only the best get-ups. She knew she was in the same playing field – having fun and experimenting. That’s what it was about.
Fashion is meant to be enjoyed, analyzed, gawked at, and as all outward expressions of style and art, it is open to judgment. When we are "admiring" someone else’s outfit, there is no use pretending with a sideways-stare or a quick glance. By all means, look! Just don’t stare to the point of annoyance. But look – enjoy the show, so to speak. And if you must criticize, it’s best you avoid outward facial expressions of disgust or horror. Some social etiquette should still be in order. On the other hand, if you are the recipient of these looks, keep in mind that it is totally normal. Do not be upset if people check you out. It is not an infringement on your space. We were made to believe that it is impolite, but if done in the right way, it shouldn’t be seen as such.
I know it’s going to be tough to overcome these basic instincts in a snap. It’s going to take lots of practice. And like sports or exercise, with practice, comes a better feeling about yourself. I think it is about time we come to grips with our fashion insecurities, become aware of our inanities, confront them and attempt to overcome them in a classier way. So by all means, look! But remember… say cheese.
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