If clothes make the man, then I’m a bit of a mess. But Samuel Clemens is on my side, so I must be doing something right.
“Be careless in your dress if you must, but keep a tidy soul.” -Mark Twain
Do not get me wrong. I understand, and try to appreciate, when someone goes the extra mile to look good. If you are dressed up in a slinky dress with your hair all pulled back and fancy, I will do my best to compliment you. If you undertake the long process, the least I can do is acknowledge that. But I am going to like and respect you just as much in a pair of jeans and your favorite shirt. (Unless your shirt says, “I hate kittens”. Then we should just give each other space. Weirdo.)
Here’s the thing about fashion, not only do I not get it, but I do not care. I wear clothes, but given my options I would wear jeans and a t-shirt every day. Perhaps a flannel if it is cold. That is fine by me. Okay, I might change my attire for running or attending a wedding. (Please note: I would not wear a tuxedo to go jogging. Unless money was involved.) However, all things considered, I have plenty of reasons why casual is simply better.
- Woke up late? Roll out of bed. Find pair of pants. Find shirt. Done. Now go catch your bus.
- Shaving your head- saves on shampoo, saves on combs, saves on having to care.
- Poor people, rich people, they all find me approachable.
- You will never have to wait for me to get ready.
- Jeans match everything. Or at least, I like to believe that they do.
- Hiking shoes? Work shoes? Walking shoes? Out to eat shoes? All combined into one!
- Time taken away from reading so that one might catch up on latest trends: 0 seconds.
That last part is the one where my eyes start to glaze over. When I go running, I do not have fancy armbands for holding phones or fancy belts to hold all my gear and water too. I am the simplest jogger I can be. Clothes, watch, keys- done. When you start asking me to look good while running, I scoff. I like the way jogging feels, not the way it looks.
My heart goes out to females. They seem to bear the ox’s burden in the fashion expectations. Men can be ruggedly handsome, possess a face of character, be salt and peppered, and my personal describer, scruffy. Women have a more rigid set of expectations. They are supposed to be somewhere between cute, attractive, and elegant. Outdoors is only allowed if you are on an L.L. Bean catalog. Oh, and you can be “sporty”, the female version of scruffy, but only if you wear a sports bra and tight pants and make sure your hair is in a ponytail. (A dress code to be casual? Blargh.)
If you really want me to, I will dress up. A fancy date on the town? Parents going to church with us? Okay, I can yield a few times a year. I am not a complete ogre. Yet in the day to day, I will be casual. It is how I prefer to act and my preferred attire. It takes less time, less money, less effort, and still produces the same result.
Besides, if I dress for the occasion, I get in trouble. Like here!
See, if I start to care about fashion, the it will all go horribly awry.