Oh, don't pretend like you don't have one!
I really don't see an end in sight to our coverage of Korean and Japanese beauty products and inspiration. Most recently I've fallen for what I've determined is the Korean take on Halloween:
I identify with this for a couple of reasons. One being that I have the most nauseatingly disinterested attitude toward phenomena that "others" lose it over, Halloween being a prime example. (Also Pinterest.) It's my lovely way of letting everyone around me know that not only didn't I find their lame interests first, I was NEVER EVEN INTERESTED IN THEM TO BEGIN WITH, and therefore am exponentially more interesting by default. You see how that works? I developed this practice around 14 and never grew out of it. It's really charming and wins tons of friends.
This "Halloween" headband really drives the nail into my I'm-too-cool lifeless, friendless, and thus mourner-less coffin. If I were to not acknowledge the holiday entirely, all of that superb, adorable bitchiness would be lost and people would probably just think I forgot to dress up or couldn't due to other circumstances. No, the circumstances are that I understand that it's Halloween and choose not to participate, and the wearing of this far too to-the-point headband is a surefire way to let all of you know.
Although, I will admit that on Style Nanda, the models are so freaking gorgeous and have the most beautiful and friendly smiles, that any ounce of irony that this headband would possess on your run-of-the-mill snotty American adult teenager is lost.
The other reason is that I genuinely don't get excited to dress up on Halloween. I've come to the realization that a. due to procrastination, I'm just not very good at it and b. I think we should be aiming to dress up all the time, and not just on Halloween. The headband acknowledges the holiday, whether you interpret the gesture as fun and cute or insincere and petulant, but doesn't put any sort of "real costume" pressure on.
I don't like being forced to dress up. Case in point: my American Apparel Halloween costume. I worked there briefly during college, honestly just to make some new friends outside of the sorority house. My manager at one of the Austin locations was a little... I'll just say she was very dedicated to the brand. She modeled, she sold the most, she had Dove on speed dial. But chick ruled with an iron fist, handing out demerits and warnings, encouraging employees to tell on each other and cut throats over sales numbers. So when she instructed all of the employees to dress up for Halloween, I shrugged and obliged, even as she gestured toward the leotards and printed hosiery.
I mean, sure, I knew she wanted us to dress like slutty ballerinas and slutty pieces of celery and slutty kittens. Well, I had some AA riding pants (handmade by angels) and a men's white button-down, and figured I'd be a horseback rider instead.
She was not pleased, and the customers were scared. One demanded to know, "the name of the man who did this to you." I was reprimanded.
Last year I didn't even do anything for Halloween, but dressed in what I'm sure many people mistook as Halloween costumes every other day that year:
It really bums me out that a lot of people get upset over an atypical outfit. Their comments are always very complementary, almost nervous in tone, and a little irritating after a while. I wore this dress out the other night and all the discussion around it made me feel like I was wearing a costume rather than just a cute outfit, which in turn left me a bit uncomfortable.
I thought that moving up here (New York, if you're new), would grant me my unlimited freak pass, and that I could wear the sickest outfits all the time. I have vintage hot pink and purple leopard silk palazzo pants whose hems have yet to tread through NYC subway juice, and a baby blue lace-up suede vest with mongolian fur trim that may never know what it's like to be worn when it's actually cold outside.
I find myself getting boring-er and boring-er the longer-er I live up here. I don't want to be a funny "character" that somebody is obviously snapping an iPhone photo of across from me on the subway for wearing something that I wouldn't have thought twice about in Austin. Don't even get me started on fur politics up here, I had my life threatened by an NYC acquaintance via an Instagram rant for snapping a photo with my grey fox collar. I looked fabulous.
I guess what I'm trying to say is that NYC is pretty basic, folks. If the outfit or something similar hasn't been #OOTD'ed a dozen thousand times, you might as well save it for Halloween because that's apparently the only time it's acceptable to wear your finest majorette uniforms and three piece tartan suits.
In rebellion I'm NOT dressing up for Halloween beyond a sarcastic headband (unless I can put together a decent Professor Chaos costume in time), and am going to make an effort to wear everything I own in the next couple of months regardless of feeling like a muppet amongst the normals taking public transportation.