Fashion by Kate Harwitz
I don’t know how it happened, I swear. Oh, it all happened so fast! I was innocent, not a care in the world but then—! Snowballing out of control, I couldn’t stop it, I tell you! Beware, for once it gets set in motion, once the BEAST is released upon you, there will be no stopping it. It will utterly consume your life, it will penetrate and entangle itself into everything you do. When I wake up in the morning, it stares me in the face. When I sleep at night, it invades the privacy of my dreams. Day and night, here and there, it’s everywhere! Behold, the fearsome ferocious force that is FASHION.
It all began as a simple experiment, harmless I thought. Rewind back to the first day of my sophomore year. I woke up and thought to myself, “how bored I have become with school, with my peers, with my non-existent social life. I feel so dull, so ordinary…but my, wouldn’t it be splendid if I could somehow make these monotonous and dreary school days more interesting? If I could somehow spice up my life? It’s tenth grade, it’s a new school year…I want to make this year new, different…”
*ding!*
“Aha! I shall fashion-ify myself!”
It started out as simply paying attention to the cut of my jeans. Goodbye, outdated Gap flare and boot-cut jeans, hello tight, sometimes uncomfortable, and always too low-cut skinny jeans! Then came the shirts, for then I needed more than cute graphic print tees-I needed tank tops, cardigans, button-downs, the list goes on. I wonder how many minutes I have now wasted buttoning shirts, tying bows, doing my hair…Then came the sunglasses. Scarves. Necklaces. Rings. Headbands. Hairclips. Bandanas—I couldn’t get enough of accessories! And I still can’t. Money now jumps out of my wallet and into the hands of cashiers at Forever 21 and H&M the way dorky preteens launch themselves at Justin Bieber.
My days began to be preoccupied with thinking of outfits and what way would I next present myself to the public, because from the first “I love your outfit today, Kate”, I was absolutely hooked on fashion. Previously able to dedicate my brainpower solely for schoolwork, I now walked through the hallways noting outfits, shoes, hairstyles, anything related to public appearance. Fast forward to present day. This unhealthy preoccupation has invaded my home and my homework hours; Now I find it necessary to check my favorite fashion blogs daily, seven and counting, to quell my unquenchable thirst for fashion.
How many minutes do I waste a day on fashion?
How much money have I thrown away on expendable pieces of fabric?
Since when has it been necessary to own three pairs of sunglasses?
These are questions that I just cannot answer. I honestly miss the days when I was content to throw on a pair of jeans and a hoodie, but I know I can never go back. What would the public think? Probably nothing, because I’m being too egotistical. What would my parents think? They’d actually be pretty relieved, because they think my preoccupation with clothes is silly. Okay, okay, it’s only because I am vain and egotistical that I hold onto fashion.
But it’s not my fault! Fashion made me this way, I’m telling you. It dug its perfectly manicured claws into my life and refuses to let go. I could never go back to my carefree self, because now I am aware of my public appearance. It’s horrible, because now I feel guilty when I am too tired to pick out an outfit or I go out in public in anything less than…well, an outfit. I define outfit here as “clothes that have had at least but by no means limited to one minute of thought behind their presentation”. GAAH, what a mental and emotional drain! Fashion is a slave driver, I tell you. A second and extremely naggy conscience that just takes and takes and takes…
Despite the torment, the hours of anguish, the frustration, the blood and tears (okay, that one was a bit of an exaggeration) I wouldn’t give up my love of fashion for anything-I am too far gone to ever turn back.
I don’t know how it happened, I swear. Oh, it all happened so fast! I was innocent, not a care in the world but then—! Snowballing out of control, I couldn’t stop it, I tell you! Beware, for once it gets set in motion, once the BEAST is released upon you, there will be no stopping it. It will utterly consume your life, it will penetrate and entangle itself into everything you do. When I wake up in the morning, it stares me in the face. When I sleep at night, it invades the privacy of my dreams. Day and night, here and there, it’s everywhere! Behold, the fearsome ferocious force that is FASHION.
It all began as a simple experiment, harmless I thought. Rewind back to the first day of my sophomore year. I woke up and thought to myself, “how bored I have become with school, with my peers, with my non-existent social life. I feel so dull, so ordinary…but my, wouldn’t it be splendid if I could somehow make these monotonous and dreary school days more interesting? If I could somehow spice up my life? It’s tenth grade, it’s a new school year…I want to make this year new, different…”
*ding!*
“Aha! I shall fashion-ify myself!”
It started out as simply paying attention to the cut of my jeans. Goodbye, outdated Gap flare and boot-cut jeans, hello tight, sometimes uncomfortable, and always too low-cut skinny jeans! Then came the shirts, for then I needed more than cute graphic print tees-I needed tank tops, cardigans, button-downs, the list goes on. I wonder how many minutes I have now wasted buttoning shirts, tying bows, doing my hair…Then came the sunglasses. Scarves. Necklaces. Rings. Headbands. Hairclips. Bandanas—I couldn’t get enough of accessories! And I still can’t. Money now jumps out of my wallet and into the hands of cashiers at Forever 21 and H&M the way dorky preteens launch themselves at Justin Bieber.
My days began to be preoccupied with thinking of outfits and what way would I next present myself to the public, because from the first “I love your outfit today, Kate”, I was absolutely hooked on fashion. Previously able to dedicate my brainpower solely for schoolwork, I now walked through the hallways noting outfits, shoes, hairstyles, anything related to public appearance. Fast forward to present day. This unhealthy preoccupation has invaded my home and my homework hours; Now I find it necessary to check my favorite fashion blogs daily, seven and counting, to quell my unquenchable thirst for fashion.
How many minutes do I waste a day on fashion?
How much money have I thrown away on expendable pieces of fabric?
Since when has it been necessary to own three pairs of sunglasses?
These are questions that I just cannot answer. I honestly miss the days when I was content to throw on a pair of jeans and a hoodie, but I know I can never go back. What would the public think? Probably nothing, because I’m being too egotistical. What would my parents think? They’d actually be pretty relieved, because they think my preoccupation with clothes is silly. Okay, okay, it’s only because I am vain and egotistical that I hold onto fashion.
But it’s not my fault! Fashion made me this way, I’m telling you. It dug its perfectly manicured claws into my life and refuses to let go. I could never go back to my carefree self, because now I am aware of my public appearance. It’s horrible, because now I feel guilty when I am too tired to pick out an outfit or I go out in public in anything less than…well, an outfit. I define outfit here as “clothes that have had at least but by no means limited to one minute of thought behind their presentation”. GAAH, what a mental and emotional drain! Fashion is a slave driver, I tell you. A second and extremely naggy conscience that just takes and takes and takes…
Despite the torment, the hours of anguish, the frustration, the blood and tears (okay, that one was a bit of an exaggeration) I wouldn’t give up my love of fashion for anything-I am too far gone to ever turn back.