Don’t be afraid to look stupid.
Picture it: Sicily, 1935.
Wait, I’m channeling, Sophia Petrillo again, hang on…
Picture it: Washington, D.C., 1993
A young Miss Plumcake starts her first day of high school. She is wearing a trop chic vintage mustard yellow cloche that belonged to her great grandmother and an aqua blue Adolfo boyfriend blazer with some seriously significant shoulderpad action. I believe there was also some sort of makeshift bustier involved, and it might have been gold lame, though I can’t quite be sure (I am quite sure I owned a gold lame bustier as a 13 year-old, because I remember buying and then hiding it.)
As you can tell, Miss Plumcake went for A Lot of Look.
Sitting down in my all-grades Spanish class an older boy took one look at me and said “You’re really brave to wear that. I mean it. Really brave.”
Which I guess I was.
Now he was probably making fun of me. I mean I was a chunky, less-than-conformist girl in a yellow suede cloche and possibly a bustier. That’s not really an ideal look for anyone.
Did I look awful? Probably.
Did my world end? No.
I did discover I looked fantastic in hats though, and although I don’t really wear vintage ones all that often anymore –it’s a little too costumey for my tastes now– taking that risk and looking stupid without the world collapsing around my ankles taught me that I could try anything.
So do it. Try anything. If you want to spend two months as a goth and then go straight to pin up girl, punk rocker, dandy, farm girl, whatever, do it. People will always talk about you, even if you’re the most perfect conformist little darling to ever shake a pom, so why not enjoy yourself?
But word to the wise: lame sometimes itches.
Gin and Tonics,