All Clothes Are Fine

I feel like I've been varying levels of fussy about what I wear since around age twelve when I was into short mushroom-y hair, blue combat trousers, and lots of baggy t-shirts. Those were the days. I pretty much dressed like any boy in a 2001 cartoon. Then I rapidly became confused about my evolving changes in taste as I traversed the awkward adolescent times amongst the incredible wonder of the world that was 00's fashion. What a joy that was.

I started wearing all black as a teenager, and that offered me some safety and security in the comforting familiarity of one very specific colour scheme. I eventually emerged into the world of colour like a frightened mole being lifted from the soil, and for a while every colour choice felt very conspicuous and weird. I was intensely interested in ultramarine for a while, before transitioning into the life of a standard multiple-colour-wearer. And at that point I felt some relief.

But what lead me to write this post was a general feeling I realised I now have, which is that basically, all clothes are fine. I mean, obviously there are still clothes in the world that I hate and will lobby government to ban well into old age, but I realised that I'm just not too fussed any more. What gave me this abrupt realisation was reading this Buzzfeed photo list of all Rachel's outfits from the first season of Friends (which I took the photos for the above collage from) and thinking "yep, they're pretty much all fine". Some are great and some are not so great, but they're all acceptable enough. And with just 'acceptable', I realised, comes a certain amount of charm. I may not be Jennifer Aniston, but I look cute in weird pyjamas and random borrowed cardigans and all sorts of questionable relics from previous decades. It's all fine.

At this realisation I felt a certain kind of peace fall through me. Throw me your old varsity sweatshirts and floral maxi skirts, people, because I am here and I am ready to wear any old thing - gleefully.