I find myself with loads of ideas for
not only cosplay, but also general outfit or garment concepts that
look awesome in sketch form AND feel like they're within the realm of
possibility as far as actually constructing. Everyone who's ever come
close to actually making these sorts of ideas material knows the
materials cost money. But I'm finding that even more than the money
(it's easy to pretend I'll get the money for pretty much anything
under five hundred dollars at some point), I start to worry about
what I'll *do* with the things once I've made them and photographed
them and maybe worn them to some sort of event.
One thing that I tend to keep in mind
is doing a photoshoot or even a video, which I may try some day and
even be satisfied with. But that still leaves me with the garments.
Taking up space. Garments that reflect a reality (or perhaps just a
world view) that aren't quite on the same frequency as what I
actually live and perceive. I like eccentric or even whimsical
looking-clothes, but no matter what they look like they start to lose
their aura when I wear them in situations that don't quite conform to
them and go from magical to cumbersome, and I'm unsure what to do about this. Do I keep refining like I've been doing and make all my
clothes reflect some sort of synthesis of the inside of my head and
my surroundings as I perceive them? Do I work on altering my
perception so it suits my aesthetics better? Do I make more efforts
to change my actual surroundings? Go somewhere else when wherever I
am disappoints me?
My surroundings often lose their aura
the same way my clothes do. I love my home city, and I think my
university is beautiful whenever I stop and look at it (cloudy days
help--it's a moody place. The sun makes everything look the same, the
clouds complement and expose the beauty in the buildings.) Traveling
helps, especially when I'm awake enough to take everything in and I'm
not freezing my ass off. Maybe that's the trick--keep moving so
everything stays fresh. And even if I wear the same outfit for a
month, it becomes my adventuring outfit and therefore inherently
appealing (and that's starting from an already appealing baseline
since if I'm going to be wearing it for so many days in a row, it had
better be pretty awesome to begin with.)
Or maybe winter is the culprit here.
I'm coming to despise tights--they feel like too many layers under
bloomers, a petticoat, a skirt, and a shirt. Even my velvet blazer
becomes unappealing when it's shoved between a sweater and my winter
coat. I apparently have an optimum layer level--no layers and it
feels boring, too many layers and it feels bulky as well as boring
since everything is hidden under my coat (which I generally don't
take off unless I'm at home.) To be happy, I need no more than two
inner layers and one outer layer that I can wear in a way that
exposes the inner layers. It's a shame, because the outside world
looks beautiful with the snow.
The truth is my wardrobe doesn't need
that many pieces as long as they all look good together. I've got
most of what I need right now even though I've still got so many
ideas. Part of me wants to keep experimenting, but that costs money
and takes up space, and in order to disentangle myself from the
Monster I need to stop using money for so many things. Easiest place
to start there is with the things I do for fun. And even if money
weren't a concern, I grow more and more uncomfortable with owning
stuff I don't use regularly. Objects are burdensome to me, and
clothes I don't wear often are no exception.
But my brain won't quit. Although when I see people in casual but distinct and expressive outfits who look fantastic in them, it gives me hope. Not hope that I'll be like them (because really their clothes aren't that different from mine and I'd rather be me anyway), but that I'll find a way to adjust my headspace so that I won't get bored wearing such outfits because I'll find such fascinating things to obsess over that I won't have any energy left for getting fed up with clothes.
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