Who Am I Trying To Impress Anyway

“Hmmm. Nope. Nahhh. To big. Ick. No way. Hmmm. Maybe. To small. To revealing. I would not be caught dead in that. Oh well, I guess this will have to do.”

That was the gist of a conversation I was having with myself (it is always good to have an intelligent conversation once and a while) last week while trying to find something to wear to a local club. I then had one of those cathartic moments where I changed. They do not happen often and we usually do not recognize them when they happen. They are more easily seen with hindsight. Those are the moments where we literally grow as people and as individuals. We make that leap from one stage of our life to another. We move to a higher spiritual plane or we learn some ancient truth about the universe and ourselves. For me it was the revelation that I had nothing to wear.

Now if you were to look in my closet (no I would not be in there), I am sure that you would say I have a lot of things to wear and in a way that is true, but in another way you would be wrong. The realization was that I was still letting other people control me. I was letting strangers - people I have never met and will probably never see me again – have some form of control over my actions, my thoughts and me. I was letting them control me by the choice I was making in what to wear. To me, THAT realization was my cathartic moment.

Now you are probably rolling your eyes now and saying, “What gives, Bev?” Well, here I was trying to do the simple task of picking out something to wear but I was not doing it for me but for some unknown entities. I should have been picking out what I wanted to wear and not something to get the approval of strangers. Who matters in my life? Certainly not the people I do not know, but here I was giving them control over me. The one person that should have mattered the most – me – was not even being considered.

Of course there are times when we do dress to please or impress others. Our jobs might require it. When you meet someone for that all important “first date.” If you are getting up in front of an audience, you probably want those strangers to think well of you because you might be representing yourself or a company. In these cases we are giving these strangers some power over us because we expect something in return like a pay check or a relationship or applause.

And then there is that new web cam which is spying on us all the time (or so goes all that spam I have been getting lately. You would think that every college co-ed got a web cam for Christmas). There are of course the social norms that dictate an unspoken dress code. Sure we dress in a manner appropriate for our chosen gender. Clothes send up a flag that we are of that gender but they do not make us female nor do they make us male. They are a reflection of who we are.

In my case, the unspoken dress code was that nudity and formal wear would be frowned upon but just about everything else was okay. I finally decided on a pair of slacks and a dressy top. This decision was based on MY criteria. I wanted to go dancing and a purse becomes an anchor. Either someone has to stay and watch them for others (I have pulled more than my fair share of that duty) or you risk lose it or you dance with it. So my criterion was pockets. I could lock my purse in the trunk of my car and carry a car key, my ID and some cash in my pockets. Guys never have to think about such things. I guess I could have worn a dress with a fanny pack but I do draw the line somewhere.

How often do we do things for other people and not for ourselves? It is one thing to do things for your family and friends. But when do we start doing things for unknown masses just because they will see us is went we really lose control over our own lives. Do I get something from the maddening crowd if I choice to bow to their collective will? Probably not. So my cathartic moment was pockets. I need to dress for me and for no one else unless they are an important part of my life. I think I will not stoop to the level of mall slob for my next shopping excursion. I do have some standards.

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