Simplify?

It's winter drumline season again, and one thing I've been noticing with drumlines this year is that their uniforms are simpler. For the uninitiated, winter drumlines come up with new uniforms for each show they do (so one per year.) Often times they'll be fancy and related to the theme in some way. Usually stretchy and form-fitting, possibly with extra details that sometimes get changed throughout the show (for example, hoods, which can be pulled up or down to complement a change in mood or help to distinguish between groups of performers within the same line if their show calls for it.) Sometimes the uniforms are homemade, sometimes they're assembled from store-bought parts, and sometimes the entire line has customized t-shirts or sweatshirts. I've been seeing a lot more of the latter than usual this year. One would think that this would detract from the quality of the show, but I'm finding that it seems to be working in the lines' favor--without the fancier costumes and props, one's attention is focused more on the performance itself and the creativity of the writing.

"Adryrn, I don't care about winter drumline, write about something spooky or rant about the Monster so you at least can appeal to my sadistic taste in blogs" says the imaginary reader who accurately represents none of you as far as I can tell but nevermind that o__o. I've been feeling a pull toward more simplicity in my outfits myself lately--or at least "cleaner" outfits. This might be because it's winter and wearing ouji/lolita under my winter coat has simply lost its appeal. I don't know that I'll be able to say for sure until it warms up more.

I'm not as enthralled looking at pictures of others in lolita either as of late. I'm not sure if it's the prints or the overall style. I still feel like it can be streamlined a lot and still be lolita (even though for a lot of people the appeal seems to lie in the opulence), but I'm unsure. I find that design details that stand out like super wide skirts or chunky boots appeal to me a lot more than intricate prints or even things like blouses (lace seems to annoy me more than anything else), and I prefer bold contrasts to intricate color coordinations. I like a lot of what one finds in earlier Gothic & Lolita Bibles, but the fun thing there is that a lot of it edges out of what is considered lolita and more into plain goth territory. At the same time, even those outfits look different from the tradgoth sort of stuff that usually comes to mind when I think "goth", in a very lolitaesque way.

I'd try pursuing these impulses, but at the same time I'm kind of sick of seeking out more pieces/accessories, so I'll probably just work with what I've already got--oh who the hell am I kidding. I say that and then immediately think "well except for those boots I've been meaning to buy since the ones I have are getting worn out and [insert further excuses here]" and "I should wear make-up that stands out instead of curating an eccentric wardrobe" which means I have to buy make-up since I don't really have anything useable except nail polish right now. And then there are all the patches I want to make and buy (and even if I make them I still have to buy material) to stick on the one button-down shirt that used to be part of a Misa cosplay (making a sort of patchy outer layer that probably will work nicely in the summer.) And that altered hoodie I want to re-vamp, although at least I probably won't have to buy anything for that. Even "working with what I've got" seems to mean buying more stuff. Oh well. Maybe this actually will be my last round on the fashion tread mill before I'm finally content.

Blending in while standing out

Although what I wear stands out sometimes, I actually do care about whether it fits in with my surroundings. However, I care because I like things to fit together aesthetically, not out of any particular urge to conform to social expectations (although I would probably recognize the practical necessity of doing so in some situations, such as visiting a country that has stronger and different expectations of what constitutes proper attire than my home country.)

A lot of what I like actually manages to not clash with my campus (which is where I'm spending most of my time right now), although sometimes it doesn't feel quite right inside of the more modern buildings (with exceptions--STSS is pretty nice-looking, for example, although in more of a sci-fi kind of way.) Casual (by today's standards or by last century's standards), comparatively modest clothing works well here. Anything that exposes too much skin is impractical as well as unfitting because they air condition the hell out of the buildings in the summer. Campus is a good place to look civilized, if only barely.

Older urban settings are similar to campus, although not as grandiose. Even more simplicity works well here--things that might be boring in other contexts become interesting to me because they fit in better and act like an extension of the interest I find in urban architecture and decay. In contrast to campus, vicious works about as well as civilized as far as style goes. Ripped clothes, fishnets, and thick eyeliner blend in nicely with the decay of the older and less maintained buildings.

Newer buildings tend to look cheaper, plainer, and sometimes gaudier. Most importantly, they have not had time to decay sufficiently, so they are not beautiful like their equivalent older counterparts. I try to avoid them, or ignore them when possible. The same applies to suburban areas, which in my experience are usually revolting, so I would rather avoid them than try and blend in (not that I always accomplish this).

Supermarkets are the epitome of suburban ugliness with their nasty fluorescent light, overwhelmingly huge enclosed spaces with nothing beautiful to focus on, and redundant products full of weird chemicals labeled as "food". It is possible to find actual food here, but you have to really look for it and be careful to check all ingredient lists. I'd describe places like this as uncivilized except they're actually a pretty good representation of the values of modern capitalist civilization. I'd strike "civilized" in the second paragraph and replace it with "cultivated" or "polished", but the urge to look that "polished" in the first place is a civilized urge. So, campus is the place to look cultured or polished and all the pleasant things civilization brings, supermarkets are the place to look vicious and wear more fishnets and ripped clothes and eyeliner. That, or look viciously cultivated in over-the-top gothic aristocrat-looking stuff. I prefer to find a way to clash with my surroundings because they are disgusting--I might not be able to change them, but just because I'm sacrificing aesthetic continuity doesn't mean I have to submit to the ugliness around me.

Natural settings or older suburbs that have had more time to decay and sprout enough green things to cover up the ugliness are trickiest, which I guess fits since paying this much attention to aesthetics is a civilized thing. Casual seems best--I find last century's standards preferable. Really just about anything that isn't too fussy fits, I guess, but at the same time if it's not beautiful in some way I feel like it marrs the beauty of the surroundings. Muted elegance might be a good phrase for what I'm thinking of. A t-shirt can look good, but the design on it might not. A skirt and petticoat could work, but the skirt with the bustle and miles of lace won't.

Of course this is all extremely subjective, and perhaps you don't obsess over visuals quite as much as I do. Or if you do, you might have entirely different opinions (which by the way would be super interesting to hear, so please post them in the comments if you feel like it.) Trivial as it may seem, this sort of thing does have a noticeable effect on my headspace. It seems a touch ironic that decayed grandiose manmade things interest me the most, but I'm certainly not the only one if Tumblr and the fake ruins at Pfaueninsel are any indicator. Perhaps its an instinctive reaction against the ways the physical and mental environment we humans have built for ourselves contradicts our nature. Then again, it might just be because it's pretty. 

Time, an example, and a vicious kick in the feels

Oh no, inspiration. Well-timed inspiration. Anyway, I'd already been pondering what it is about vegans and veganism that puts so many people off as well as how to get along with people regardless of what they eat--it's not like veganism is the only radically different value that I hold, after all, yet nothing seems to wind people (including me) up as much. (Not to imply that I've gotten into a ton of conflicts over it--most people are very accepting, and I'm good about keeping my mouth shut more often that not.) And then along comes this post from Marla, which fits into all that very nicely.

In a way, it doesn't matter how heavy or significant the facts behind veganism are because facts alone are not convincing. They did not stop me from becoming an omnivore when I was six or convince me to knock that shit off, so I really shouldn't expect them to help me much when interacting with others. At best, they help show open-minded people that I'm not some extremist who's putting a frankly-not-so-effective-by-itself attempt at living by one altruistic principle ahead of their social life, their happiness, and their health.

I suspect that everyone who makes any kind of long-term, life-altering decision that isn't necessitated by their own immediate needs probably has some sort of moment where something lights some sort of emotional spark under their ass (or at least turns on a lightbulb somewhere in their headspace) and convinces them to change. Here's what changed my mind (skip to the third-from-last paragraph if graphic fantasy violence triggers you or you're in a dire emotional state.)

The foundation was laid when I was in fifth grade and I saw the video for Pink Floyd's "Another Brick in the Wall" on a big screen in the Hard Rock Cafe. The actual message of the video flew right over my head, but the people in cloaks and masks getting tipped off a conveyor belt and falling into a meat grinder disturbed the fuck out of me. Even now, it is probably the single most disturbing thing I have ever seen. It took me a long time to be able to hear even the first several seconds of that song without panicking and smashing a button to turn it off or running away from it. I still feel uneasy when I hear that song. But I never quite connected the sight of what was meant to be ground-up humanoids to the chicken nuggets in front of me as I cried.

That kind of imagery still disturbs me, though. Fast-forward ten years to Berlin in 2012 when I saw the movie Cloud Atlas. It looked like (and was) an incredible movie--it was complex and pretty enough to keep me entertained, but unlike a lot of things I enjoy it wasn't just dealing with creepy and violent things in an aesthetically pleasing way--it could be as brutal as it was beautiful at some points, and one of those points was the slaughter ship from the Neo-Seoul storyline, where human clones were "recycled" into food for the clones who were still in their prime (unbeknownst to any of them except for the protagonist.) The clones were told they were being set free after years of slavery, but as soon as they were out of the sight of their fellows they were systematically killed and transported to the recycling part of the facility on meathooks. I covered my eyes, but I'd seen enough and could still hear enough to figure out what was going on, and it plagued me for at least a month afterwards.

I couldn't help but draw a parallel between the clones in the film and livestock in our world. And since there have been instances in our not-so-distant past of humans being murdered in the millions by industrial means as well as treated as livestock, was the predicament of the clones of Neo-Seoul really so farfetched? Humans might like to think of themselves as separate from nature, but we're still animals and we can still see that even as we tell ourselves we're different--how else do we become so attached to our pets, regardless of species? And when we systematically murder and abuse animals and make use of their corpses and the byproducts of their bodies so often that we come into contact with those products on a daily basis and think nothing of it, can it really be possible that it has no effect whatever on how we view our fellow humans?

I'm not suggesting that omnivores are the same as murderers, or that they take anywhere near as icy-hearted a view towards their fellow humans as the people of Neo-Seoul in Cloud Atlas. But I can't help but think this widespread and systematic mistreatment of animals and the way most people refuse to really think about what they're helping to perpetuate when they use animal products (let alone take any kind of action to put a stop to it) has some kind of effect on how we view all animals, even the ones we like and consider to be people. And there is no way that effect could be positive.

The above is not by any means the only or even a particularly good reason to go vegan--it's just what convinced me. I decided to cut out meat entirely two days after seeing Cloud Atlas, and the only reason I didn't immediately go vegan (not to mention quit buying leather, used or no) is because it took me awhile to fully discard my omnivore filter. I didn't feel ready--it felt like too big a step (and now that I think about it it's kind of ridiculous how fast I was able to forget what that felt like), so I assumed I was doing enough by avoiding meat and didn't really look into the facts behind at all. It took about ten months plus another nudge in the right direction (which came in the form of Davey Havok's outspoken vegan streak) to convince me to take this as far as I can.

Try as many vegans might to spark similar emotional kicks in the pants with disturbing slaughterhouse footage and info dumps, I think most people have to encounter that moment on their own, because everyone has different weak spots, and it's often next to impossible for an outsider (or even the individual themself) to predict what will be effective. In the mean time, any outside attempts to create that spark will probably irritate the fuck out of most people and create mental scar tissue more than anything else. Regardless of what I think other people should do, there's no effective way for me to get them to do that. Not that I've really done much of that--any half-hearted attempts that may have seemed like that were more snark resulting from the frustration of dealing with omnivorous dietary customs in restaurants and gatherings or people questioning my painfully obvious reasons for cutting out animal products than anything else. (And yes, I should be more careful about that. I'm working on it.)

Anyway. TL;DR: I've realized that most people need time, at least one example, and a potent kick in the feels to go vegan, and the latter may be something they never get and is almost certainly something they won't get from anything I say. Mine is described above for anyone who's curious.

Making Ideas Material

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.

Refining

I've been chipping away recently, particularly at my accumulated material possessions. It's been getting easier to let go the more I do it. As of late, sometimes I feel myself feeling unattached to things before I'm even completely comfortable with loosing my attachment to them. The biggest example being my pony collection--I still think the G1s are super cute, it's just I hardly even notice that the ones I still have out are there any more. Part of me wants to just keep babies Moondancer and Glory (because they're the cutest <3) and sell the rest (including my first several that I got when the obsession was new, which I was super attached to because for awhile they were the only ones I had.) Even when I think I'm done, I find I'm not--just a week or two ago I dropped a couple grocery bags of stuff of at the local thrift store and I've still got another two or so bags worth of stuff part of me has let go of (which, as mentioned before, the overly-cautious part of me is still hesitating to accept.)

Part of this is a practicality, or even a necessity. I have very little income since my classes are my top priority right now (and after that comes fun domestic stuff like cooking and sewing.) So if I want to do things that cost money, I have to sell stuff, which seems totally reasonable to me. If anything, I'm pleased that I had the taste I did when I was a teenager because the stuff I accumulated and enjoyed then more than I do now is stuff that other people still actually want. Some of the Christmas presents I got so excited about when I first got them have turned out to be two gifts in one because of this. Furthermore, when I move out I will very likely not have room for a lot of the stuff I have now, let alone all the stuff I've gotten rid of so far.

I've been chipping away at my wardrobe, too. As I start to get a taste of some of the styles I used to lust after, I realize it seems to take a lot less to satisfy myself than what I expected. I'm refining it down to just my favorite pieces, and it feels great.

It's not just material things that I'm chipping away at, though. I've been working on unlearning the cultural bullshit I absorbed as a child just by being born into this monstrous society and trying to figure how best to react to the world around me. Not that I don't have tons more unlearning and learning to do, but I feel like I understand my surroundings better than I did even a few years ago. I'm refining my priorities, and the material purging is part of that. Here's hoping I won't get so bogged down again (although I'm sure I will, given how much life I expect I have left to live.)

Adjustments I

I'm making an effort to customize the things I have around that have potential (and yet don't tend to get worn much) instead of replacing them with something better. Here's what I've been working on so far:

Acrylic Cardigan

This used to have shiny off-white buttons that looked like they were made of shell or something like that (although I doubt they actually were.) Whatever they were made of, they matched my Tokio Hotel t-shirt pretty well but looked weird with everything else. No longer. I've replaced them with cute white buttons in alternating star and heart shapes (as well as widened some of the button holes to accomodate the star buttons, which were just a hair too big to fit through the holes as they originally were.)

Black Thermal

The original buttons on this shirt were actually pretty awesome and brassy-looking. Vaguely steampunk, I guess. Trouble is they looked odd with the silver in my pyramid-stud belt. There really isn't room for any warm metallic stuff in my wardrobe, actually. So I replaced the buttons with plainer black buttons, putting this shirt on track to become one of my favorites because of how awesomely it fits me.

Inspiration: Elisabeth das Musical

I don't normally write about musicals on here, so for now I won't obsess much about how fascinating and convincing and generally brilliant I find the personification of death (der Tod in German) in the musical Elisabeth. However, the costumes alone are dazzling and close enough to my usual taste in clothes to be worth a post on their own 8D.

For starters, der Tod always wears [nearly] monochromatic outfits. I think my favorite is the black outfit Uwe Kröger wore in the 1992 production...

I also like the neatness in some of the more recent costumes (for example, the ones worn by Oliver Arno.)

Der Tod's costumes are usually fairly simple (even the outfit with the elegant frock coat has what appears to be a simple mock turtleneck under it) but not without making an impact. The make-up and jewelry worn by some versions (not to mention Uwe Kröger's hair in the original production =D) add a sense of androgyny that I also enjoy and find highly appropriate for the character.

The idea of the inevitability and necesity of death as a theme is also very appealing, and I find the way der Tod in Elisabeth is presented as something as familiar as another human to be a highly effective (although subtle) way of expressing that. I find it preferable to accept and embrace one's mortality rather than fear it (and by "embrace" I do NOT mean being suicidal, but rather resisting the urge to avoid thinking about death or taking worthwhile risks out of fear of death), and the way der Tod is woven into the unraveling of the power of the European royalty and the end of that era feels somewhat similar to the unfolding industrial collapse in this era and our collective refusal to make our lifestyles more conducive to our long term survival as a species.

Even though one is never really allowed to forget what der Tod really is, he looks and acts like a human (albeit a highly intrusive and possibly unhinged one), and although a lot of this is expressed in how purposeful his actions seem and how ominously they line up with the mental processes of the living, the way he's dressed like he gives a shit (as opposed to the rags or simple cloak of your usual grim reaper type) certainly adds to the familiarity while at the same time setting him apart from the cast by having him always wear mostly black or all white.

Although they make him stand out, der Tod is not the only character to wear monochromatic costumes. Luigi Lucheni also has a tendency toward mostly-black costumes, and Elisabeth herself tends to wear a lot of white (or, later, all black.) These commonalities tie the three characters together nicely (although Elisabeth's outfits are usually based off the clothes the real Elisabeth wore in the existing paintings and photographs of her.)

Being an empress (who was also just generally obsessed with maintaining her appearance), it's to be expected that Sisi also looks dazzling. This portrait (can't find any good pictures of the black costume from the musical) makes me want to develop a kuro-lolita outfit based on her mourning clothes (probably involving a super long, voluminous brown wig.)