My Blunders with Clothing

           Looking good has been an ability by many of my friends. I’m dumbfounded in that department though. I am well aware that scrutiny is in every corner yet I have been able to dismiss it as far as I could. Now that I’ve reached the part of my life called adolescence (e-hem...e-hem), I have no choice but to re-evaluate my exterior form in a more meticulous way than I ever had in the past. 

           My fashion blunders could be piled into records and can put any palatial library to shame. I blame the mishaps partly to my unsupportive mother, who never really got the hang of the idea of me-being the fashion savant that I would have been if she had given me the “green” for a formidable buying-power, I love her still tough. The other agent for the aforementioned occurrence is also due to my then clueless self–image. I never thought about it that much; I always felt that the people who often gawk at me are either impressed or insecure. When I look back at the outfits with those color-matching schemes… picture this: blue bandana, ¾ blue polo-shirt, khaki jeans and blue loafers. Yep, you heard it right a bandana… while watching a movie. The pants altered in shady ateliers to make them into super-flared trousers. How is this so? I would buy denim from my local sewing store and head to my atelier of choice with my doomed pants to be turned into creations of art, or so I thought. I would also horde the then extremely popular pheasant tops, with their butterfly sleeves and tons and tons of ruffles galore. In what color did you ask? Well, the usual black and red. The not so friendly choice of color combinations was the main culprit for those disasters, I remember one night-out with my extremely stylish friends. I wore a green shirt my mom bought for me, paired with the blood red elephant pants I bought and how can I forget the seashell pendant as my accessory. Talk about being the spirit of Christmas! The rampant self-humiliations also occurred in many places not just at school or in the mall. There was this time when we went to Club V. I was wearing the omnipresent ¾ polo-shirt, white pants, black slip-ons, and a fuchsia scarf. Oh yes you heard right! I was wearing an effing scarf in a club. I looked like a freaking bank teller.

           To this day I still have those off-days were I wear chunky green platform clogs and a polka-dotted yellow maternity dress. I never really got the hang of that mix and matching thing. I think I can safely call it mismatching complex. Never did I have the hang of that layering thing that’s all the rage this season. Vigilance is the key, effort is also needed. Fashion is not just a wanton thing that you can neglect all you want. You could be born with exceptionally good genes