So So Gay
Fashion has never been my strongest suit. I can look at an item of clothing in Topshop and wonder what on earth it would go with and how someone could possibly work it out. Despite being 22 my most successful shopping ventures are with my mother. I need someone there to guide me towards what might suit me and work, especially if I have to dress other than ‘casual’ or ‘gym’.
My ‘style’ channels at best a 15 year old skater boy, or a member of One Direction if the chinos come out. This ineptitude to shop did however lead to one of the best shopping experiences of my life with fellow So So Gay contributor Danny Baxandall, who asked a sales person in New Look if they did heels in a size eleven, whilst I was frantic about having to wear a dress and heels.
It’s safe to say that my teen years were full of some some questionable outfit choices. I was always a tomboy which then went to the ‘goth/emo’ thing that was in when MySpace was also in fashion. The pièce de résistance of my terrible fashion choices however, is a pair of purple baggy pants popular with ‘Goths’ at the beginning of that phase. I got them when I was 12, and can still remember from which shop and how bloody happy I was to own them.
In hindsight they were (are) absolutely hideous, however at the time nothing was better. They were baggy and had some random pieces of fabric that just hung off them, and they also had loads of cargo-pants style pockets. I wore them everywhere and jumped at the chance to wear them to non-school uniform days. I really don’t even know what drew me to them in the first place, that is something I really don’t remember. They were so bright and garish and out there, and I definitely wasn’t a popular kid so why I wanted to draw more attention to myself is a mystery.
I have no recollections of how other people viewed these rather purple trousers, and really it’s probably best. I almost feel this might be the point where I have to apologise to my long suffering mum for having to actually be seen in public with me and the offending trousers (and probably a few other outfits). The trousers I am fairly sure were worn to death and eventually got a rip in the arse, from which they could not be salvaged. As a slightly chubby kid to an overweight teenager it was almost an inevitability that trousers with no stretch in them would succumb to a rip eventually, and usually somewhere it could not be hidden.
Just picture it in your mind; a slightly weird, tall, overweight kid wearing a pair of baggy purple pants, some sort of rock band hoodie and a pair of skate shoes. I thought I was the best thing since sliced bread. Although now, I’d rather forget it.
It’s a wonder I made it through high school alive. Though, in those pants I thought I was invincible, so maybe they did actually help. Either way I’m rather glad they’re decomposing down at the tip now.
