Nothing to weaaaaaarrrrrr

What happens when we have 'nothing to wear'? Its clearly bollocks. Everyone know this. And yet it happens to everyone. You stand in front of your stuffed wardrobe, and nothing, nothing, nothing fits or works or makes you look the way you want to. It happened to me pretty much every day of last year in Oxford, when, for some reason, somewhere deep down in my psyche, a doubt had comfortably settled down to fester in an armchair, resulting in my feeling so insecure in my appearance that to step out of my house every morning involved a battle with my well-stocked wardrobe. Every single morning, and this is not a word of a lie, I would change my outfit at least three or four times. Every. single. morning. Which, considering that my days consisted of studying in the college library and tutorials, followed by perhaps a night out for which I would obviously change again, was completely and utterly ridiculous. This wasn't a battle between pyjamas and clothes, it was far more subtle - tea dress, or high waisted skirt? shorts and tights and ballet pumps, or shorts and tights and boots? which boots? R used to sit and stare at me, occasionally saying, in complete bemusement 'but you wore that last week so SURELY you LIKE IT, so WHY CAN'T YOU WEAR IT TODAY?' I never had an answer. I still don't - I have theories - serious underlying weight issues being the most obvious and plausible one, just pretending that it was an integral part of 'me' and that it was just totally what everyone, like, EXPECTED of 'me', the me that shopped at least twice a week to 'destress darling' and was always upbeat and ready to listen to anyone's problems other than my own, another. In Paris, I don't care as much. Actually, I do -if anything I care more - this is PARIS people, where, if you wear tracksuit bottoms to the supermarket on a saturday morning to get milk, 5 different french ladies aged from 30 to 70 will stop you and tell you off (TRUE STORY), but I don't find myself changing in front of the mirror 5 times every morning. It happens from time to time, and I still think about clothes far more than I should, but suddenly, I have found myself waking up and putting on something with relative ease, and none of this nailbiting obsessive self-criticism, which I didn't even realise was self-criticism. I don't know where it has gone, or whether it will return with a vengeance next year, but I know I'll be on the lookout for it, and I know I don't want to wasting half an hour EVERY morning getting dressed. For special occasions, bien sur. But not every morning. I have a degree to finish, after all...

So. The 'I have nothing to wear syndrome'. Where does it come from? Canny marketing ensuring every time something significant happens in our lives, we immeidately 'need' a new outfit to make us feel good, when, actually, most of the time, you'll just need up wearing your most favourite old trusted garment rather than the really expensive one that you panic-bought? This weird festering self-doubt? Or is it just a self-perpetuating fact of life? Every girl, even K, who happily wanders around in jeans and primark body warmers most of the time (and looks GREAT WHILE SHE DOES IT, even if she doesn't think she 'has any style at all'), has doubts and funny moments. We can all understand it, because clothes do speak volumes, no matter what anybody says. Anything you wear makes a statement and allows anyone who meets you or passes you on the street to make a judgement. No one goes to an interview for their perfect job without thinking about what they are wearing first. No one wants to run into the current theoretical love of their life in tracksuit bottoms and a toothpaste stained hoodie. And no one, I believe, no matter what they say, doesn't in some way connect how they feel to what they wear. If you go and see a posh show, or go out for a nice meal to celebrate something, chances are you will not be doing so in tracksuit bottoms. So clothes clearly matter, but there is a very very fine line between clothes mattering, taking a bit of time to groom and look presentable, and an obessive self-destructive wasteful endless cycle of trying stuff on, taking it off, trying it on again and beating yourself up about the fact that you have all these clothes but you don't even like any of them, and that you will never look exactly how you want to look. Next time you find yourself in front of your wardrobe, tearing your hair out, with a frustrated girlfriend sitting on your bed (here I feel it is appropriate to acknowledge my deep gratitude to all my girls who have had to put up with this for as long as they have known me, MILLE MERCIS, your tolerance as ever astounds me), tak a step back. Acknowledge that something else is probably going on, and put on one of your tried and trusted outfits, no matter how dull and boring it might make you feel at that moment, and leave the house IMMEDIATELY, stifling your inner squeals of 'BUT IT JUST ISNT WHAT I WANTED TO BE WEARING I NEVER EVER LOOK RIGHT'... Trust me, it will feel good to have broken the cycle a bit, and you might even realise that actually, what you are wearing is 'you' and you are pretty great. (criiinge? sure. but its true.)

Xxx

Photo from Laura Bailey's Vogue Blog - I love the way she dresses.