Sunday, April 05, 2009

Clothes are fucked. God, I can't bear the way they make me feel as I walk down the street, riding up or slipping down or clinging embarrassingly to my body. The entire point of clothes is to feel reassured that the underlying horror is safely masked and contained, and that I can safely get about in public without having people look at me. Whenever someone looks at me, I assume it's because I've done something wrong or because there's something awry with my appearance. So since I know I can never look good, I just strive to look unremarkable.

Lipstick, for those playing along at home, is a good way to pretend you look okay when you actually don't. People see the lipstick and interpret your appearance as 'dressed up', no matter what other crap you are wearing. So if you ever see me wearing lipstick, it will be because I am feeling particularly depressed about the way I am looking that day.

This isn't paranoia; yesterday I managed to get through the entire day, talking to friends, hospitality workers and professional contacts, with a smudge of dirt on my face from working in the garden. Imagine what other horrors of failed personal integrity I have simply never noticed.

Here is my ideal outfit, which I would like to force the entire world to wear. Underwear would be a snug-fitting elasticised garment similar to the Australian women's basketball team uniform.

Prime Minister Kevin Rudd and… uh, his wife Therese Rein, re-enacts his notorious strip club visit with a gang of scantily clad hussies.

It could have a lower cut neckline in front and back – I would favour a round scoop neckline rather than the high V-neck – but would not have thin 'straps' that could slip over the shoulders. It would be made of a soft cotton elastane that could 'breathe', but was firm and elasticised enough to feel as though the body was securely 'held in'. There could be a built-in bra in the top half similar to those Bonds singlets, or in the male version, a built-in snuggle pouch for their boys.

As an all-in-one garment it would have no cruel waist elastic that would slide down to your hips in a tight, uncomfortable roll, causing unsightly bulges or 'muffin top'. And as it had the little bike short legs it would never give you a wedgie, droop in the crotch needing to be constantly tugged up, or cause a visible panty line. And your thighs would never chafe in hot weather. It could have a snap-fastened crotch so you could go to the loo without having to take the whole thing off.

Over this underwear everyone would wear a long robe similar to those worn by the Polyphonic Spree:

Or perhaps a muu-muu:

I got that muu-muu pic, by the way, from a website called Nursing Home Apparel.

I realise that people want to 'express their personalities' through what they wear, and they can still do that via the colour and pattern of their robes, or the design of the neckline, or the style and length of the sleeves, or via makeup, jewellery, shoes and accessories. But the robe would have to be loose-fitting and ankle-length. Looking at the Polyphonic Spree again, I think even their chicks' robes are too tight and revealing.

The point of this is that nobody can ever judge anybody by their bodies. Nobody has to feel ashamed of being too fat or too thin, nobody needs to worry about their bodies letting them down, and because everyone would be dressed the same, this garment would have no shameful connotations: nobody would mock anyone for dressing eccentrically or 'looking like they were in a cult'.

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