I have a confession to make; though I was proudly patting my own back for having hardly bought any clothes and strongly had been able to avoid consumerist sartorial temptation in Switzerland, I visited Belgium during the holidays and comfortably let all this pride go and shopped, shopped, shopped. Everything seemed so damn cheap after having lived in this awfully expensive country! I could go on and argue that a lot of my purchases were useful ones (warm sweaters for the first time in my life, at last!) and most of them were totally green since they were second hand yadiyadah blah blah blah… really, I just thoroughly enjoyed getting new things and sad to say, this is also one of my biggest motivators in wanting to dress up (as I own a fashion blog, can you imagine how often I get new things…). Though I am doubtful that I should feel guilty for owning and buying clothes often since pretty much 90 percent of what I own is second hand (or should I?), I feel sad that I have this inherent urge to just own new things. But then I look at my clothes with such soft and beautiful love that I say, “fuck it” and consequently feel even guiltier that I have such an attitude. Insert eternal vicious spiral of consumerist guilt!
But damn it, sometimes clothes make me feel so good, like this outfit. These socks totally rock my world (Happy Socks!); they go so awesomely with my weird shoes and show all the cool coloured details, and I am pretty much literally in love with this fluffy top as I am continually stroking its furry hairs while pretending it to be a furry little animal (I miss cats here in this sad Switzerland that is so devoid of pets!).
But there, I’ve said it; these are my eternal struggles of being a clotheshorse and I wonder if I’ll ever be able to change either my feelings of guilt or my shopping behaviour. Obviously I need to find the key to enjoyment in old clothes but I have basically been trying that for two years now.