Clothes are important to me, in the sense that they keep people from seeing my fat, ugly, naked ass, but aside from that, I don’t care much about them. I don’t worry about latest trends or styles, I don’t keep up on fads or anything. I think the last time I consciously dressed according to what the style was at the time, it was either 1990 or 1991. I wanted a pair of black stirrup pants and a bowler hat with little gems on them, because I saw someone in a music video dressed like that, and I thought it was cool. That was oh, 25 years ago?
My current style can be best described by this sentence: Do the clothes fit me, and are they clean? If the answers to those questions are yes, I wear it. If it’s not, I don’t. I sometimes wonder what goes through people’s minds when they leave the house each day. I’ve seen men and women of all sizes wearing clothes that were not made for their bodies. I’m sorry ladies, but if you’re a size 18, do not squeeze yourself into a size 12. Men, please wear trousers that cover your entire ass, not just 1/3 of the crack. I don’t need to see that when in line at the grocery store. To quote the late Whitney Houston, crack is whack, y’all. In the summer I wear shorts, mostly cotton or poly blend, in either black or navy blue. In the winter, jeans or black lounge pants. Obviously if I’m lucky enough to find a job, that will switch to appropriate office wear, which consists of black trousers and cute, yet professional tops. My shirts are a solid color, tending toward the dark end of the spectrum. I wish I looked good in pastels, but I don’t. I don’t like wearing heels unless I absolutely cannot get away with not wearing them, which is odd considering I’m 5’3. Most women my height live in heels, but I am more comfortable in flats.
That’s about it, really. My clothes are as boring as I am, which is fine. I don’t like drawing attention to myself, so it only stands to reason my apparel would follow suit.