Mirror Talk

Trying to find something to wear in the morning, or the night before, can be absolutely one of the most frustrating things in the world. You have a perfect picture vision of what you want to wear in your head, right? So you start rifling through your closet playing a little game called “trial and error.”

I know I’ll put something on, thinking it is magic, walk over to my floor length mirror and start doing the dance. You know what I’m talking about. It goes a little something like this, 5, 6, 7, 8 … turn to the right, stop, pose, flatten out the fabric in the front. Turn to the left, stop, flatten out of the fabric in the front. Turn to the front. Stop. Hands on hips. Vogue pose. Vogue pose. Turn around, look behind, spin back to the front. STAGE FREEZE.

Aaaaaaand depending on your mood, certain phrases, words and sentence fragments will come flying out towards your reflection. Perhaps you’ve hit the jackpot and the first thing you’ve tried on works. Maybe this time you won’t say anything, maybe you’ll just continue the dance to see how utterly fantastic you look as you smile and flip your God damn hair. Congrats to you ya jerk! Chances are you probably just went shopping and everything looks fabulous because know the other 364 days just won’t be that easy.

So if you’re staring back at a failing look, frustration will start to creep into your soul. And after you are confronted with more and more heinous looks that do not work, the more you will want to pull a switch blade on your mirror. For me, I have some go to questions and or comments I make to myself or the poor souls who happen to be around me during this “trial and error” period. Ahem …

“Do I look like I’m going to a funeral?” -Referring to a great black Calvin Klein dress

“God dammit, I look like a special ballerina.” -Referring to a really great light pink graduated hemline see through skirt.

“I’m a house, I’ve turned into a house ladies and gents.” -Referring to an oversized dress that, well, is supposed to be oversized according to Cynthia Rowley.

“Do I look fat? Seriously, don’t lie to me, I can take it, I’m an adult, I can take it, I just want to know, for serious.” -Referring to … well … anything I put on my body.

“Do you think this is too short? Would you judge me for wearing this in the office? I mean my finger tips touch the hemline, I’m good, right? I just don’t want to be known as the whore in the office who wears inappropriate things thinking they are appropriate.” -Talking myself into wearing a dress that MIGHT just be a bit too short.

“Is this too much black, or is there no such thing?” -Referring to all of my wardrobe.

“Why can’t I be just three damn inches shorter … blasted DNA.” -Referring mostly to the high heels I own. Sure I’ve gotten over the fact that I’m tall, but I still have my moments.

“Why didn’t anyone tell me I look like a crackhead.” -Referring to when I was trying to go for the, “I don’t give an eff” look that went totally wrong.

“I look like a hooker.” – Referring to a comment that is an oldie but goodie. Yes, this could be uttered over numerous things such as too much makeup, tight dresses and or bad color choices.

I could go on for hours and hours and hours, and I’m probably forgetting some of the ridiculousness that goes through my head when finding that perfect outfit. And why do we get so frustrated? Because all we want to do is wear something that makes us feel sexy, confident, powerful and fashion forward, right? That’s all we ask. So in those moments of rage when nothing is working, everything is fitting wrong and every outfit seems tired and utterly boring … know you aren’t alone. There is probably some crazytown lady going through the same emotions as you are … saying sentence fragments of how she looks like a tranny mess into her mirror, ripping off the outfit, throwing it into a pile and going back to the drawing board, hands on her hips, sweating and feeling hopeless.

But know … at the end of the day … we always look fabulous. We just go through a lot of curse words, crazy thoughts, blood, sweat and tears to get there.

One thought on “Mirror Talk

  1. My personal favorite pose: The “sit on the bed and how much thigh my cubemate will see” often followed-up the thought, “Ehh, I’ll just keep my legs under the desk all day”

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