An Unexceptional Blog

Upon meeting me, people see the types of clothes that I wear, and make assumptions. Don’t worry, I know very well I look like an uptight lady — a friend once told me I am “prude presenting” which I thought was entirely and hilariously accurate. I look like I am about to preach abstinence and remind you to stay away from the devil’s lettuce. It is something that I struggle with, this perception. My clothes really do communicate something to those who meet me, but I wish it would communicate something different.

My cottagecore/witchy/victorian aesthetics (@onceuponasecondtime on instagram if you are curious, dear reader) mean something else entirely, to me. It’s about making sustainable clothes that last. It’s about making choices for the sake of the planet with each purchase of recycled fabrics that will make my durable attire. It’s about connecting with the women of countless past generations; learning about their struggles, and meditating on what I struggle with as a woman today. It’s about getting in touch with the romance in my heart and letting it become visible. It’s about a will to slow down, and ask myself “How was this done in the past? Has technology really improved on it, or has it only cheapened it?”

When people get to know me, they always seem so surprised that Iron Maiden features regularly in my musical rotations, alongside Nightwish, First Aid Kit, and Muse. They gasp when I swear, as though they didn’t expect such “filthy” language to come out of my mouth. They hear me talk openly about my mental health and think this must be difficult for me, to shatter the stigma around it. Upon learning that my husband and I married at age 22, some assume it was for “religious reasons”; no, we were just in love, and still are. Plenty of people don’t know that I am an honest-to-goodness geek: Magic the Gathering, FFXIV, Lord of the Rings, Full Metal Alchemist, Dungeons and Dragons… each are just a few of the provinces of my Geekdom. 

I struggle with what my clothes might communicate about me. I am well aware of the ease with which one could judge me.

But, dear reader, I would, for one moment, ask you to consider what you would wear, if you were only and entirely guided by what you feel like wearing. What would you look like, if you allowed yourself to adopt the protagonist character that’s in your heart? Would you wear a dark and broody heavy wool cloak? Would you be clad in yellow and orange geometric print with large flowing sleeves, à la 1970s? Would you, like me, twirl about in long swooshy skirts with frills and delicate flower patterns? Do you often find yourself looking, for example, at a particular hat while out shopping (perhaps it looks like one Sherlock Holmes would wear, perhaps it looks like one a pirate would pick out) and do you wish you could wear it, but tell yourself you could never “pull it off”? 

I can tell you from experience that you can “pull it off,” as long as the “pulling off” of it comes from an honest and genuine part of yourself. The immense joy of presenting myself authentically greatly outweighs the fear of judgement from those I pass. It feels so incredibly good to feel, well, like myself. And since I know this feeling well, now, I can see it in other people. Whether they are dressed in black and wearing decorative chains, whether they are wearing a film noir trench coat and fedora hat, whether they are clad entirely in light a fluffy pink sweater; these people are living their truth, and being authentic to themselves, and all it does is make me smile. 

So yes, I stick out a little bit wherever I go, but I am so entirely myself that I don’t care. I feel such pride in the clothes that I make and wear. How can I not feel immeasurably strong when I feel the lacing of my corset on my back, and the swooshing of my skirts and petticoats at my ankles? The fact is, no matter what people perceive upon looking at me, what I am doing is presenting my truest, most honest self to the world; and there is real power in that.