Labels & Detractors

Recently, I met a fashion blogger, and I was quite excited as I am when meeting any writers; however, my excitement was quashed when she began speaking of ‘labels’ guaranteeing ‘quality.’ I did not feel the need to correct her with my personal opinion; instead, I told her that ‘I don’t really care about labels.’ […]

Recently, I met a fashion blogger, and I was quite excited as I am when meeting any writers; however, my excitement was quashed when she began speaking of ‘labels’ guaranteeing ‘quality.’ I did not feel the need to correct her with my personal opinion; instead, I told her that ‘I don’t really care about labels.’ Well, she smiled and told me that I ‘look like someone who does.’ Well, I returned her smile detailing the fifteen dollars jeans, and the fourteen dollars cotton dress shirt, and the forty five dollars quilted jacket that I was wearing. Note: I’ve substituted estimated pricing for the names of the budget conscious retailers where the pieces were purchased. Anyway, I did confirm her idea of me when telling her of the nearly five hundred dollars designer shoes that I was wearing; however, intentionally, I neglected to tell her that I purchased them, brand new, from a consignment shop for eleven dollars.

Now, I know that I should have told her this; after all, I had been honest when rebutting her, but I just felt that I had to give her something: I had to present some compassion for her misguided idea. Of course this is my opinion, but I state it without apology because I have been labelled many times. I’ll leave the definition of that to your imagination. Anyway, we parted amicably, and I’ve obsessed over her since parting because she didn’t contact me from the card that I had given, so I have felt less than ‘quality’: ‘Was I not worthy?’ I hate giving cards to receive no response because this disregard throws me back to high school and the calls delivering invitations to parties that came never.

Look, she has her opinion, as you, and I, so read mine, and hold it, or discard it, but I HATE DEPENDENCY UPON LABELS because this is an act of weakness. The need to cling to something because the strength to hold oneself is lacking is a concept that is foreign to me as I have survived the words, and actions of those wallowing in absent knowing while knowing that they were attempting to further diminish me when not calling wasn’t enough. And I have learned from carrying their words, and actions, throughout my life that those individuals lacking appreciation of my individuality gave me the strength to write the words that you read; still, I question, occasionally, if I am wallowing between the seams of my scars. Anyway, I am digressing as often I do, so I will return to the reason of this writing when admitting to appreciating fashions’ ‘labels’; in fact, I wear some of them, so I look to them, but I do not allow them, as with detractors, to define me. No, I do not relinquish myself to them because to do that would deny me.

‘Deny me’: I read those two words, and I remember her justifying her words when telling me that I ‘look creative.’ From there she rambled on telling me that ‘people need labels to teach them’ because they ‘do not’ possess my ‘creative skill.’ I looked to her with silent question: ‘With all of her appreciation of “labels,” she isn’t dressed well, and her hair is a mess, so where is the statement supporting the title of “fashion blogger”?’

People, you do not need to be ‘creative’ to be chic, and you certainly do not need ‘labels’: you need to know yourself, so look within to create the surface because fashion is an expression of you. You dictate to it: it does not dictate to you. Is that too naïve, or is that a strong opinion inspired by ‘detractors’?

I’ll add one more of my opinions: to be ‘chic’ is to be an individual; to be ‘vogue’ is to wear the styles and ‘labels’ of the present. As an individual, I strive to be the first because to be the second is to exist as milk: homogenized and boxed by society’s dictates.