I was wondering if there is anybody out there who struggles to change their clothing and wears the same items over and over again. Even when they go in to holes. As this is a huge problem for me and stops me living a full and enjoyable life.
I was wondering if there is anybody out there who struggles to change their clothing and wears the same items over and over again. Even when they go in to holes. As this is a huge problem for me and stops me living a full and enjoyable life.
I do get caught in the cycle of wearing the same things on repeat for months at a time, and I get distressed when they aren’t washed or available, and then have a teatime trying to find another outfit. So much so, over the last few years I’ve learnt to buy at least one duplicate of my favourite items.
I also find it hard to find something to wear when I need to go out in public and dress differently.
I must try on at least 20 outfits and nothing works, and the room is always a mess after and I’m exhausted.
The thing is, everyone always compliments me on my style, even though I don’t actually put real effort into my outfits. I know what suits me, and what I like and that’s it.
The only effort is the awful try on process because everyone feels wrong.
When I get home, I strip off and put my comfy safe clothes back on, whatever they are for that period in time….
My issues with wearing the same thing all the time are very extreme. I feel trapped in a nightmare i can never wake up from. I don't understand why i continue to wear clothes that are falling apart and extremely uncomfortable. Yet i can't seem to wear new clothing as i always find a fault with them and can't wear them either.
I know exactly how that goes. Sometimes with a heavy heart I put myself through a clothes shop. My mission is to find something as conservatively non-descript and in my limited range of plain-as-possible blue/grey shirt or whatever - much harder than it sounds as fashion is so perplexingly insistent on making thing stand out with vibrant patterns, or quirky details that would look right on a 'cool' person but disastrous on me. If I'm lucky I get one or two things that seem like they won't attract negative or (almost as bad) positive comment. At least they seem that way in the fitting room. When I get home, something unseen at the time will jump out at me: the collar being too big and turning me into Harry Hill, the tailoring at the back insufficiently disguising my Quasi-Modo-ish figure, etc. Then I get upset wondering of I'm experienceing a dysmorphic body image, or if the objective truth is exactly as it seems: I'm a fashion disaster and a grotesque. Sometimes, months or years later, when other stuff is literally falling apart, I'll find one of these things at the back of the wardrobe, try it on again and think... 'it's not as horrific as I maybe thought. And I need something...' So it becomes part of the new three-things-in-rotation system unless and until it gets commented upon by anyone. If it does, I have failed to be sufficiently non-descript and the struggle resumes.
Why am I like this? My favourite character of all time - the Doctor - is willfully individualistic in their fashion choices in each incarnation - sometimes even being an intentional symphony in bad taste. I love that, but could never be that way in a million years. Of course it helps if you have a superb BBC costume designer making even your bad taste stuff deceptively co-ordinated in actuality. Meanwhile, in real life... the horror.
I know exactly how that goes. Sometimes with a heavy heart I put myself through a clothes shop. My mission is to find something as conservatively non-descript and in my limited range of plain-as-possible blue/grey shirt or whatever - much harder than it sounds as fashion is so perplexingly insistent on making thing stand out with vibrant patterns, or quirky details that would look right on a 'cool' person but disastrous on me. If I'm lucky I get one or two things that seem like they won't attract negative or (almost as bad) positive comment. At least they seem that way in the fitting room. When I get home, something unseen at the time will jump out at me: the collar being too big and turning me into Harry Hill, the tailoring at the back insufficiently disguising my Quasi-Modo-ish figure, etc. Then I get upset wondering of I'm experienceing a dysmorphic body image, or if the objective truth is exactly as it seems: I'm a fashion disaster and a grotesque. Sometimes, months or years later, when other stuff is literally falling apart, I'll find one of these things at the back of the wardrobe, try it on again and think... 'it's not as horrific as I maybe thought. And I need something...' So it becomes part of the new three-things-in-rotation system unless and until it gets commented upon by anyone. If it does, I have failed to be sufficiently non-descript and the struggle resumes.
Why am I like this? My favourite character of all time - the Doctor - is willfully individualistic in their fashion choices in each incarnation - sometimes even being an intentional symphony in bad taste. I love that, but could never be that way in a million years. Of course it helps if you have a superb BBC costume designer making even your bad taste stuff deceptively co-ordinated in actuality. Meanwhile, in real life... the horror.
