Spoilt for choice...
Its one of those days again. I stand in frustration in the midst of discarded clothes. I don’t know what to wear. I haven’t been out in ages. Now I have to go through the annoying rituals again.
Days before I had it all planned out, the resonate blue Rock&Republic jeans and the tiffany amber pink top. Well we have the resonate and over five pairs of jeans discarded; all my republics failed to rock your body right, the religions failed to be true and the seven for all mankind just felt like plain number one for no mankind on me. Feels like my body somehow transformed over night, all the right curves going in the wrong places.
The tiffany amber is buried under a purple mango dress that was discarded just after the grey skirt and the black top, right next to the sagoe pants. Everything I tried seemed so wrong; the whole wardrobe is turned upside down. I’m already sweating despite the heavy blast of the ac. I look at my many many clothes and shoes, some really expensive, some as cheap as you can get them….all useless at this moment. What was i thinking when i purchased them?
I really should have just made my mom proud and joined the convent, be a nun and wear a habit all day. Then i wouldn’t have to spend money on clothes I can’t wear when I need them.
In frustration i discard the blue vintage top, it lands on the red shoes and the dereon skirt narrowly misses the never been worn tiffany amber maxi dress in the corner, bought a year ago, tag still intact. I reach for my housecoat, the cool silky cloth feels good on my body, at least that’s one expensive purchase that’s serving me right. I go down to get a drink, pick up a book, step on some of the clothes as i try to find my way to the bed, push all the discarded clothes that were lucky to land on the bed to the floor, switch off my phone to avoid irritating calls of ‘where are you?” And life isn’t so bad anymore.
Searching for the perfect outfit for a wedding, a red carpet event, a date or even just an evening out with your friends is sometimes one of the hardest things ever. Not because you have nothing to wear but because nothing seems to be right for that moment. Like the hilarious delectable Tracy Martins a bona-fide wag of luton town said in the book the wag diaries by Alison Kervin
“ ……..ludicrously over stuffed walk in wardrobe, so its not like I don’t have anything to wear-it just seems that way sometimes. Most times, when I look at my wardrobe with more clothes in it than the average departmental store, I don’t think there are no clothes in there, that would be plainly absurd, I think there are no clothes in there that I can put on and feel like a million dollars and be guaranteed to look like the best in the room tonight. What I mean, as every woman means when she moans about having nothing to wear, is that in the wardrobe, there is not the answer to all dreams, there is not the outfit to transform me. There is not a piece of clothing in there that is absolutely right for this particular event. And such is the power of advertising that when I buy clothes or even see clothes in shop windows, I do believe in some small part of me that they will do that…they will make me feel perfect”
Our help once told me, the only reason i say i don’t have anything to wear is because i have so much to choose from, if i had just a suitcase of clothes then i wouldn’t worry myself so much, because my choice is limited to what’s in the suitcase. I wasn’t too happy with him for saying that to me, I just felt he wanted me to give him more clothes for his sister. Well years later, his words make more sense to me. When you’re spoilt for choice, you become confused and disgruntled.
Its like when you’ve got men hovering over you, and more than one of them kissing the ground you walk on, you get confused, spoilt for choice, thus undecided and you kind of miss your big break when the best of men is dangled in your face. Everywhere you turn is someone with something to offer, whispering sweet nothings with mega phones, writing poetry, buying gifts, just showing off a lot of macho stuff. Dude 1 has A and B qualities you like but dude 2 has C, E and F qualities and doesn’t sing as good as 1, while dude 4 has ACBEFGHJ qualities but picks his nose in public. It gets so daunting, you don’t know who to choose, cos like your clothes, they all looked good on the mannequins, but they just don’t work in the long run when you need to wear them. Like Meredith put it in greys anatomy when she had to choose between Derek and Finn, its hard choosing between three people you actually like, cos you wonder, is the third one the right one.
And so with all that confusion you go home, wear your robe and sleep, forget about relationships as much as you can…Like the help said, if you had just one suitcase, it would be easier to know what you want. If I had just two lurking around, it might have been easier to choose between the two.
PS...I'm not relationship obsessed, i always find myself writing about it cos no one understands why i'm still single,thus its a conversation i have every day or every other day. i might as well write about it if i'm bugged about it.