I’ve never been too fond of rules. The only rule I like is that rules are meant to be broken. But it seems that the majority of my childhood was filled with: “Don’t jump into puddles. You can’t eat ice cream during winter. Don’t talk back to teachers. You mustn’t wear tight clothes to school. Girls don’t fight. Don’t pick your nose.” I know children need boundaries otherwise they grow up to be even bigger monsters than their genetic predisposition urges them to be, but do we really want to be raised into a civilization of blindly rule-abiding spineless wimps?
I guess my relationship with rules isn’t much different when it comes to getting dressed. It’s not that I walk around looking like Lady Gaga everyday but if I feel like going gaga or bananas occasionally, I do. And it breaks my heart when my mother or my friends ask me if this or that is APPROPRIATE for them to wear to go out with friends, to the theatre, a christening, wherever. Appropriate. I hate that word. Appropriate according to whom?! You know what I think? Screw appropriate! Screw it until it’s crawling away begging you to stop. And then drag the bitch back and screw it some more! You can’t wear white after Labour Day. You can’t mix two prints together. Your make-up can’t be too bright, too dark or too colourful. You can’t wear white pants after 50. You can’t put on leggings after 30. You can’t have long hair when you’re older. Tight clothes are reserved only for younger women. But then again not too young! By the time you’re 70, you’re walking around in an anti-form-fitting a.k.a. overly oversized black scuba suit, covered from head to toe, trotting like … Well, a miserable hag.
My mum was on her way to join the les misérables club but thank Gaga some of my rebelliousness has rubbed off on her so now you can actually find a few “age-INappropriate” pieces in her closet. Maybe I’ll show some of them next week but for today, let me just thank my boyfriend for comparing me to a grandma (you can read all about it here), because grandmas can be damn cool too if they manage to escape the ever hungry jaws of the Appropriate. What am I talking about? If you have 4 minutes to spare, click play; if you don’t … Well, poor busy you.