i find that my clothes are attached to memories. It is hard for me to let certain pieces go. As i folded and tossed clothes around my room tonight, I remembered a lot happy and weird times.
The black funeral dress I have. I wear it to all sorts of occasions but I think of it as my funeral dress.
My birthday top, purple and black paisley with a cute tie in the back, I wore it on a very memorable birthday as a dress. Every time I see it I think of that night..it got a little out of hand...
My polka hot pants...that was a good day. hahaha
My multiple American Apparel dresses..those always had good results..sometimes too good.
The dress I wore to the last POP that barely fit. The houndstooth skirt that is far too long but I still love it.
My clothes are like pieces of me and my past, my present and future. I know the outfits I wore on special occasions; they mean something to me. They are my visual history.
ahhh.....fashion...it is a passion that i cannot deny.
(side note....does anyone have this fear of being trite? i do...)