In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “The Clothes (May) Make the (Wo)man.”
My clothes are my armour, my shield, my declaration and my war cry… err… when I’m not being a normal-ish, hausfrau-ish, Mum-ish person.
Define my personal style?
Punk, Goth, Boho, Indian, Rocker, though not necessarily in any order and often in combination with one another. Never at the same time though and never before the 24th of May. That would be gauche.
The downside of being a creative, artsy type who is not afraid to wear what they’ve always loved is that Society still clings to its rules, regulations, age and gender stereotypes and general stick-up-arse-ishness about individuality and expression.
What’s with that sidelong look and side of smirk?
No I will NOT stop wearing Doc Martens and Misfits tees simply because you were born and randomly discovered this stuff too… Sheesh… Some people’s kids. As if I’d tell my Mum she has to give up her Queen albums just because I heard them on a Top 40 show.
Don’t even get me started on piercings and tattoos.
I “play them game”, you bet I do. I’m a master at disguising my unique style under a Nursing uniform or a business suit and you’d be none the wiser. Yay! I’m subversive and I love it. “Corporate Goth” is a boon to those of us who must resist The Borg. Let Freedom ring in all the closets across the land!
I pair my moccasins with suits and skull motifs with flowers. I’m more inclined to buy something with Johnny Ramone on it than Juicy Couture. No Tommy Hilfiger shall ever cross my doorstep.
What does my fashion sense make me?