I’ve been thinking about the way I’ve been dressing lately. One, it’s Spring– and every year, I try to reassess what I have and where I think I should be going with my very own “personal fashion concept” (you can blame the ladies of nogoodforme.com for that particular turn of phrase) for this year, or this season. What started as a personal affectation is actually becoming something of a self-realization. I like wearing mostly black, in it I’m at my most comfortable and it makes me feel powerful and lithe, and cool. And for the most part, it seems effortless, which is ironic as I’ve been told that I am rather meticulous and methodical when I go shopping. I study blogs and trends, and then try to assess what my needs are (what needs replacing/darning) versus what my actual wants are (to look professional and put-together but to still maintain my sense of “identity”).

I’m not there yet. But I’m getting there. And I’m starting to realize what I look good in. For the most part it’s tailored separates. Stuff that’s flowy, or doesn’t have a defined waist makes me look like I’m playing dress up, but I’m self-conscious enough where I don’t like anything that clings to me. I especially hate my middle, and I probably always will, but I do like shoulders and chest. My legs covered are covered in bruises and scars, but they’re strong and well-shaped if a little pale. My feet and hands are veiney and they’re covered in calluses, but I like them. OK, not the veiney part– that’s a little gross, but that’s from standing on my feet all day and my family (my grandmother on my father’s side) has a predisposition towards it.

So far I think I might be a combination of Puritan and Rocker. It’s not fully formed yet, but the boys at work are more than eager to help. For example, one of my outfits have been described as “Wednesday Addams goes to the beach”. This being the day that I wore black oxfords, black tights, black cuffed shorts, and a striped gray and black top with dolman sleeves.

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