Target, Jeans: ASOS, Tee: Urban Outfitters, Sweater: ASOS, Bag: Lily Jade
Hey do you want to know what my senior yearbook quote was?
Clothes make the man. Naked people have little or no influence on society. -Mark Twain
Oh yeah. Nailed it.
He does have a point though. I mean I would venture to say that naked people have a liiiiittle more influence on society than they did in the good ol' days, (we'll cut him some slack; how could he have known) but dressing ourselves can almost be turned into something bordering on poetic if you think about it for too long. I mean from a very young age, we develop the ability to clothe ourselves. It is one of the earliest expressions of who we feel we are. Our likes and dislikes. What makes us feel like us. Or perhaps even a better version of us. A cooler version. For example, Everett has three shirts that he goes through on a rotational basis. I say three, but that's an incredibly generous number. It's three if we're really feelin' lucky. If he could wear one shirt every day for the rest of his life, it would be his Boise State jersey. I kid you not, he once went ten straight days wearing it day and night. Why I am announcing this on a public forum, I do not know. But maybe it's because I'll have you know that on the eleventh day, when I could not in good conscience, let him wear it another day, I literally had to wrestle him out of it, and he cried. Because without it on, he felt that he was no longer "cool." I told him that he was always cool, because he was EVERETT. But it didn't matter. That shirt made him feel something. Like the very best version of himself. An outward expression of how he felt he wanted to be on the inside.
On one hand, I wouldn't be mad if that damn jersey got tragically, yet accidentally, lost somewhere forever and ever. But on the other, it's incredibly sweet. And it's incredibly him. And I almost love the thing because I know what it means to him to wear it every day. (EVERY. DAY.) His other shirts that he'll tolerate consist of one that says "Pretty Fly" across it. And another that has red stripes, because that's his favorite color. So that's Everett.
Isla is already right there in the early stages. Much earlier than Everett ever cared, but that seems to be the trend with this little lady. She has these little pink shoes that she loves. I'm always trying to put her in these camel colored ones, because they're MY personal favorite, but she won't have any of it. She knows who she is and she knows what she wants, and couldn't we all use a little more of THAT? As soon as she's dressed in a manner that is satisfactory to her taste, she'll run around to every person in the house, patting her belly and making sure that everyone has acknowledged and admired her sartorial choices for the day. On one particular morning, she ran up to Everett to make sure he admired her jeans jacket and he looked up from his cereal bowl and exclaimed, "that's wonderful Isla!" which I thought was very grown up. On another morning he was jealous of her handmedown Nirvana tee.
I guess all this to say that, something, like getting dressed in your favorite clothes - which through one lens, can seem silly and inconsequential - is at the same time very very beautiful and lovely and poetic when looked upon through the lens of self identification and expression, and being yourself, and doing what you want, high five.
So I suppose that's my justification for heels on a Thursday.