Clothes Don't Wear You

I have lost hours looking at lolita and goth fashion on the internet and fantasizing about the pieces I'd buy if I only had the opportunity (and by opportunity I mean enough money and the ability to try a garment on to make sure it fits right--so basically, an offline store that actually sold the clothes I was looking at.) It got kind of emotionally exhausting, so I've quit doing it as much as I used to (or at least, quit doing the latter). There aren't really any stores in my home city that specialize in such styles (though there's still plenty to be found if one looks, especially in our excellent smattering of secondhand stores), so when I'm traveling and I find such stores, I get pretty excited at first.

Then a curious thing happens. Even when the quality is good (which often times, it isn't), I find that I don't actually like what I see all that much. The dresses may be cute, but not cute enough to be worth taking off my binder to fit into them. I may like the design of a shirt, but not enough to be willing to put up with the excessive lace. Even if I find a black flared skirt without an annoying print and with nice trim, I don't want to pay through the nose for it if I have to always be wearing something to cover up the elastic waist band.

I could settle for it because seems easier than making the garments I want myself. But since when is style something I should grudgingly accommodate? And is it really easier for me to save money to buy something than to sit down and make myself sew something decent looking? I've come a lot closer to the latter, but never really accomplished the former.

I realize I find far nicer clothes from my usual sources (though such finds are somewhat uncommon, at least there's a decent chance I'll find them because the stock is always changing and it could be anything from anywhere, not just what a few specific suppliers put out.) And even if I never find them second hand, I can make skirts like what I see, but with decent waistbands. I can make dresses that won't be all awkwardly baggy in the chest. With internet tutorials and cheap thrift store blouses to dissect, I could even make the kinds of shirts I want. It seems like a lot of effort, but it would really be much easier than to keep searching for the perfect garment from specialty stores with a limited selection AND come up with the money to pay for it. Which actually feels far more empowering than disappointing.

It reminds me that clothes don't wear me. I don't have to conform to their price tags and awkward sizing and less-than-gorgeous details. So I won't.