They didn’t like my wardrobe

… I had been planning this for quite some time, all the fine details have been twirling around in my head, I put pen to paper and offloaded the idea, I shared it with my friends and they were all for it. I wanted to have my own fun private fashion show! They were all for it, I honestly couldn’t believe my ears. You see I am so proud of my wardrobe, I had painstakingly chosen every single item of clothing over the years and I feel I have done a brilliant job even if I say so myself. I was so looking forward to my little show, my very own catwalk! So I went to my local carpet shop, luck was on my side and they had an offcut stripe of a red carpet, perfect for my intentions. I took it home, set up my little front room, and got all my friends to cram in. Everything was going good. The show was about to start, as I was putting my first outfit on I began to recall my expectations of how I see the evening go. As I walk in, my friends’ jaws drop, unable to contain themselves they stand up and burst out into spontaneous applause and turn round commenting to each “We didn’t know she had such great fashion sense”. Feeling extra confident I stepped into the front room, strutting my stuff and beaming from ear to ear. But I noticed not a single jaw dropped, there is no applause and nobody was looking around to comment about my impeccable fashion sense. If I could read faces well, it seemed like they were disappointed and possibly underwhelmed by my first outfit. I dragged myself backstage (my bedroom) to try on the next outfit, I sure was disappointed but encouraged myself. Styling is quite a personal thing and not everything is everyone’s cup of tea Moreover the fact that they didn’t get the first outfit is neither here nor there. I tried to convince myself. There are still more outfits to showcase and there was no need for me to be downcast. Moreover, the next one is a showstopper, the only way to not like the next outfit is if you are blind and even then I thought a blind person would feel the energy of it, whichever way I believed the next one was a winner, so I psyched myself up, lifted my chin, squared my shoulders and strutted my stuff again. The second outfit did not fare any better, if anything I felt it did worse, a few were yawning, and a couple stood up to ease themselves. As I was leaving my self made runway, I turned back and looked at my audience and for the first time I noticed the way they were dressed, the way they were styled, it seemed uniform, almost as if a memo had gone round, to me it was boring, lack energy and class, not my style at all but I needed applause so badly, I wanted my validation, I had put so much into this. In my mind, the evening ended with all my friends gushing about how great I was. So I quickly rearranged things with some difficulty at the back (bedroom). I fished through the bag packed to go to the charity shop and I found a few impulsive buys that I had sworn would never touch my body, it resembled how my audience was attired. I came out hating every bit of what I was wearing but looking very much as they wanted me to. They couldn’t help themselves, the jaws dropped, the applause came, the smiles broke forth, the phone cameras were out, I got my validation after all but what a price I had to pay!

As my guests finished their canapes, said their goodbyes and left. I crashed into my swing armchair and reflected on the evening. I got what I wanted, applause, validation, likes, smiles, pat on the back, but was it worth it? I asked. No! That wasn’t me, that wasn’t my style that was applauded, that was them! They didn’t like my style, they didn’t like my wardrobe. My friends were not into my style. I had a decision to make going forward, ‘do I do me?’ Or do I please my friends, given I required validation?

I thought long and hard and I decided to do me, be myself, dress my way, my friends still did not like my wardrobe, however, surprisingly I met new people, new friends and even some strangers that were truly bowled over by how I put myself together. Yes, my friends did not like my wardrobe.