Telling Me To Go On A Shopping Diet Is Like Telling A Starving Person To Go On An Actual Diet

I am a little behind the times [only a little, really], but check this out: Shopping "Diets".

Now, I am all for people doing batshit things that end up as feature stories in the New York Times, but this is a little ridiculous [only a little? more than a little? i guess we'll find out once i get through this, as i haven't actually thought much of this out yet.].

So, here's the thing: I stop buying clothes, along with other things, when I stop having money. It's as simple as that. Christ knows, I'd absolutely love to voluntarily decide I'm buying into this rampant "consumerism" thing, but seriously, I've never had the kind of money that would allow me to both pay rent and obtain more than 74 pairs of shoes--that I wear regularly. [actually, let's say more like 25 pairs.] When I look at my closet and find nothing to wear, it's usually because everything I own is worn out [because i got it when i was 10 years younger], too big [because i got it when i was 20 pounds heavier], or dirty [because i never have quarters for them there laundry machine thingies].

So there's that.

There's also my careful selection of the word "got" [see above], chosen specifically to illustrate that there's really only about a 40% chance that any given article of clothing I own was obtained following an exchange of money. I'm talking hand-me-downs/ups/overs, not theft. Get serious.

[i'm talking about classism, in case you didn't get that.]

Hence, I fail to see how my wardrobe in any way qualifies me for a rampant "consumerism" award. So I guess I just need to take this article with the caveat that this is really only something rich people have to worry about, which is just what we need, another pressing problem of the wealthy, amirite? I'm pretty sure I'll never have the chance to wash my face in Evian water--le sigh.

Anyway, here's my main point: fashion is not something you need money to enjoy. If you're one of those brand-conscious assholes, sure, but shockingly, it's possible to knock 'em dead without dropping wads of cash on designer handbags, designer shoes, designer dresses, designer sunglasses, designer watches, designer perfume, or designer fucking foundation [srsly, YSL? it's spelled with an "e", actually.]. You don't even have to wear clothing that is "in" to enjoy fashion--you just have to take pleasure in your attire. And what's so wrong with that?

And no, my clothes do not define me; I define my clothes. My personality affects what I wear, and, occasionally, vice versa [it's always on purpose, though.]. I could, if I chose, stop caring about what I put on my body, and supposedly that would make me love it more, because I would accept it as it is, without all these furbelows and definitions imposed on it by Fashion. Oh, wait...

...while we're at it, let's knock out an enormous chunk of "consumerism", and really love our bodies as they are, and stop wearing makeup. OH NOES WHAT DID I JUST SUGGEST I AM THE ANTICHRIST!!!

I love my body. My body likes to dress up, and she likes to dress down, and she likes sexy jeans, and ankle boots, and men's cargo shorts, and scarves, and dropped waists, and wifebeaters, and yoga pants, and boatnecks, and short skirts with pockets, and strapless dresses with ruching at the natural waist. Who am I to deny her those pleasures?

***

Q: If the rich people aren't buying clothes anymore, and the broke fuckers like me are still dressing in hand-me-downs/ups/overs and stuff snagged at thrift stores and Wal-Mart, who's supporting the economy with *gasp* consumerism?!?