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New York, 10:20 PM
Mon Nov 30
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08/12/09
I grew up poor. We shopped in thrift stores for back to school clothes. Before it was cool. I got picked on. I grew up and turned my clothes from the thrift store into my personal creations, fixing them up from bits I picked up at the fabric store with babysitting money. I noticed Vogue. I started clipping pages I liked, collaging them and making art projects.
I saved up my money for forever and went to the mall to finally spend it. I found on a sale rack a heavily discounted DKNY tweed coat. I saw it in the store and tried it on and had this wonderful feeling. I honestly don't know what it was, just before I realized I didn't actually have enough for it. It was the most beautiful thing I ever thought that I could own, and I was shy of owning it even with all the money I had saved from babysitting and chores for the better part of a year. I cried. My mom found me in the store and gave me the difference I was short so I could have it, because she wanted to badly to be able to contribute to something nice of my own and not a hand-me-down. I've now had it for 15 years. I have worn it completely out. But I will never get rid of it.
I also grew up and found that there wasn't any money for college, despite a mysterious fund that my dead-beat dad set up that never materialized (obviously a lie to placate my mom). I eventually landed a job at Saks Fifth Avenue. I can not tell you how proud it made my mom that I had such a prestigious job, in her eyes. It was something that I kept wanting to pinch myself. I worked there! I was a part of fashion! My meager salary barely supported me, but I was a part of it. I could fuss and gawk at beautiful clothes and makeup and handbags all day, and I got paid for it! And the discount. I didn't make much, but I saved up and bought a Louis Vuitton purse. I've had this conversation with a couple of my super-close friends and I've come to the conclusion that these fashion things that I own are a symbol that I will never go back to the past. I wont be poor. I don't care that it sounds shallow. It probably means that I haven't found the right words, or I wasn't honest enough about my experience. Its the best I can manage to say.
But I really wanted to share this because we probably will never know what fashion means to Beth Ditto. I can tell you from having something a little similar in my past there is way more to it that even what made it into this comment. But also maybe we need to think to ourselves that people can have these shallow likes, fleeting fancies that we indulge in. It should never take away from the positive work that anyone does in other areas of their life. People are so much more than one sliver that is shown in the press, or in public for that matter. Sometimes we can't explain why a dress makes us happy. I don't think of her love of fashion as Ms. Ditto's defining aspect of character. She's a multi-faceted gem, thankfully not a cookie cutter bland personality as the author pointed out, with a parent quietly ushering her into the business. I'm pretty sure she's got the substance to back it up, even if the world isn't privy to it.
I know that the personal is political. But sometimes the personal can be personal and almost unexplainable. I feel like she is doing something, in spite (or because) of her love of high fashion. She refused Top Shop, and insisted on only designing a line for plus size. I say awesome! I have a few questions for all of us. Do we (and I mean this in a really broad sense) really need to rip someone down a notch? Do we need to insist her clothes she designed are ugly? Do we need to judge her friendships with the fashionable? Is this really what I signed up for in feminism? I remember getting schooled by a fellow feminist when I said something a bit degrading about a woman in my younger years. I learned from that and can say I feel like this kind of attitude holds us back. How do you get shit accomplished when one that is doing so much gets this kind of scrutiny, over dresses! Lets report to each other on awesome things women do, and celebrate things that bring us joy. I want so badly for everyone to build each other up. I know not everything is positive, but I can be hopeful, right?
***This got much longer than I intended, holy cow!
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Which is why I ultimately prefer going to thrift stores and Etsy.
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This is the most brilliantly expressed thought I have read on the site to date. Fucking Brilliant, but it breaks my heart.
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05/07/09
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05/07/09
Also, neither Ellen or Portia has ever been known to wear a vial of blood around their neck...
Just kidding Brad and Angelina, we love you.
05/07/09
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And yes, as a black woman I recognize that race and gender come with it's own difficulties, but those are ones that my mother (as a black woman) could prepare me for. If I were to hypothetically have a gay child, I would worry a lot that I would be sending them out into a world in which I couldn't arm them or protect them from because I hadn't gone through a similar experience. That the most I could do is sort of stand by and watch. And that would suck. A lot.
05/07/09
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On a different note, I don't know if it's my responsibility to model total acceptance. The best I can do (or anyone really) is to live my life in closest alignment to my own value systems. To say I can't or shouldn't have certain concerns of fears, particularly when those fears are based on facts as opposed to perceptions, is well to diminish myself as a person, I think. For example, I date interacially because I don't really give a damn about the social implications. But to say that every person should date interacially and take on those social implications (including funny looks even in major cities) I think is unfair.
05/07/09
I do think this is a big and complex question, so I feel like I'm skating over a lot of details and don't want to come across as unsympathetic to your point. But I'll freely admit that actually having a gay sibling has hugely shaped my feelings on this subject.
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What the motherfucking what now?
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Buster: Mmmmmmmmm, its so watery, and yet theres a smack of ham to it.
Lindsay: Its hot ham water.