There are two types of people in this world, the way I see it. There’s people who were born free and naked, and people who were born naked. I was born naked; my freedom wasn’t found until I was conscious of clothes. The admiration I have for the clothes is a bit embarrassing, really. It’s seen as silly because clothes are on surface created by our ancestors to keep us warm, right? So, anything more than that is probably frivolous first world concerns that I probably shouldn’t waste my time on.
Alas, fashion is the biggest piece of control we could ever use on people. The childhood notion of being whoever you want to be is true when fashion is a factor. The idea of manipulating and adjusting people’s views on who you are and what you are here for just by some articles of clothing is probably the cornerstone of mass manipulation this side of western psych-therapy. Is the president as presidential without the suit? Is the queen as royal without her crown? You know, is Freddie Kruger just an ugly guy with a skin condition without that red-stripped sweater and those chic claws? Fashion does more than decorate, it defines.
It appeals to the vanity in us all that for those hours before a party or a big meeting, we can play God and be whoever we want to be. We can give birth to ourselves and then call it ‘fly’ or ‘très chic’. Now, that’s arrogance. McQueen, Vivienne Westwood, Christian Dior, or Hussein Chalayan. Pick your designer, pick your poison, and consequently pick exactly who you want to be today.
“Clothes make the man. Naked people have little or no influence on society.”
-Mark Twain
I’d like to one up Mark Twain on that statement by saying clothes don’t just make the man, but it makes everyone that interacts with him, directly or indirectly, as well. Clothes make admirers, gawkers, shine the light on the insecure, and get the attention of the easily distracted. Yes, Mr. Twain, clothes do something Godly, like create a man from some Chinese-manufactured fabrics and selected textiles, and also puppeteer the world around him.
The way I see it, there’s two types of people. Those that get buried well-dressed and those that get buried disappointed. I’m planning on dying a big disappointment. When you live the fast-life in fashion, being buried for eternity in one outfit is quite the let down for any fashion curator and his on-lookers. That’s why being the socio-path of style is so important now, to be who you want to be with no regrets because the conclusion is always going to be quite the letdown. I guess, the real question is, what and who are you going to be? J’adore or J’forgotten.
