Dress For The Life You Want, Not The Life That You Have
I walked into Alexis' closet, reached high up on the shelf, and grabbed the white shirt I had hidden deep in the darkest corners. Suddenly, I understood it. Suddenly, I realized it was a good thing.
Alexis loves that white shirt. She loves it so much she has worn it until it's tattered and gray, and really only a shadow of the shirt it used to be. It makes me CRAZY that she loves stuff until it is tattered and no longer deserves to be loved.
I don't.
I carry a Coach handbag. It's old, pre-dating even Alexis, but there was a long gap when I didn't use it, so it has endured. It was purchased on clearance at the Coach Outlet, but that's not the point. It's a Coach handbag. I noticed a few days ago that the leather is just starting to crack.
It's time for it to retire.
Alexis would disagree.
The scars of growing up poor run deep. They linger and change everything about how you view the world, including how you view things. I view name brand as Important. FAR more Important than most people do. It's one of those things that distinguish the Haves from the Have Nots.
Dress for the life you want, not the life that you have.
I started it all in high school, when I had enough income from babysitting and part-time jobs to fund my own wardrobe. From that time forth, I haven't worn a single stitch of clothing from KMart or Walmart. Even Target is iffy because you have to dress for the life you want, not the life that you have.
Name brands are that thing you can do when you are poor to signify "I don't belong here." If I walked through the trailer park, the LITERAL trailer park where I grew up, while wearing Guess jeans and a Bongo t-shirt, I was telling the world "I don't belong here." I had the brand name gear to prove it. Nobody can tell if something came off the clearance rack, so they didn't know that the jeans cost less than some crappy KMart jeans. They just knew I had that triangle on my behind. It was a symbol of being out of place.
But the things don't just have to be name brand -- they have to look new. If there is a stain on that Bongo t-shirt, people might know it's a hand-me-down. PITCH IT. If there is a worn spot on those Guess jeans, people might figure out that they are a few years old. STOP WEARING THEM. Even a loose thread on a sweater is a cause for retirement.
That theory lingers. I still stick to brand names, even as I make sure I never pay full price. My things have to be in new-appearing condition. It's a status symbol. It's my way of dressing for the life I want, not the life that I had.
Alexis doesn't have those scars. Cute clothes are cute clothes and if she loves something, she wants to wear it and wear it and wear it.
I returned the tattered white shirt I had hidden from Alexis because she doesn't have those scars. I hope she never does.
Wednesday, November 6, 2013
Reader Comments (6)
Well said! This post goes well with the blog you shared on Facebook today. I bought my first pair of Levi's in college. I loved those jeans because I had always wanted some and would never even ask because they were so out of reach for us. To be able to buy a pair made me feel like I was powerful and could do what I wanted to do. That empowerment is so much more than a name brand! I wish people would not be so fast to come to judgement on other people's purchases. There are scars that are not seen and stories that are not told.
Well said. I remember the days when the bags of my cousin's hand me downs felt like Christmas. But I also worked every year starting at age 14 until Shepherd was 1. I earned my name brands, and I was the only one on my spring break trip who paid with my own money.
The one time I saved up $100 for a pair of shoes in high school, I never wore them for fear I ruining them.
I hope no one is judging your purchases now.
Well said.
While name brands have never meant a lot to me, it took me until my late 20s before I would throw out socks or underwear with holes in them. It took me that long to really grasp that I didn't have to mend them, I could throw them out and BUY NEW. The idea of being able to afford new socks & undies whenever a hole appeared still didn't stick.
PS - I still wear holy socks longer than I probably should. But once I had that realization, I've never once had a problem throwing out holy undies, LOL.
I have the exact opposite philosophy because I grew up poor - I know that the label on my butt does NOT make me a better person. I know that the label on someone ELSE'S butt does NOT make them better than me. They may HAVE more, but they aren't necessarily better (or worse, for that matter). This is why I hate (and I don't use that word often, either) - with the fiery passion of a thousand suns - the show What Not to Wear. People shouldn't wear $700 pairs of jeans just so they can look good - I have jeans (with Stacy London's face on the tag) that I bought for $6 at the outlets and I look darn good in 'em.
Understand that I'm not faulting you, just saying that the scars we take away from an experience like that (growing up poor) are just different for each of us. I have a hard time EVER admitting that I can't afford something - I will make every other excuse I can before I say it's a money problem. Thankfully, right now, that doesn't happen a lot but it cuts deep when it does.
You would definitely hide my whale sweatshirt. I've tried to retire it a few times, but I love it too much.
man, i still remember not being able to have a pair of jordache jeans when they were wildly popular. i literally cried when denied by my parents. probably why i don't care about labels these days. interesting that we each had poor shape our views. and so fabulous that alexis won't. you are raising a great kid. i love her heart.