Too often, I thought about why instinctively I didn't want to dress up on the weekends but down. I have finally come to the conclusion that it's probably because of all the rules I know I will try to abide by and I refuse to do that. On the weekends, I refuse trying to choose the right clothes and right accessories to go with those clothes and, of course, right shoes to wear; whatever right means.
I'm a simple, regular person really. I suffer from regular, modern woman problems, perfectionism being the most dangerous of them all. It makes my life more difficult than it needs to be and I'm working on letting go of things that don't need to be perfect, such as weekends. I have decided to free my weekends from the responsible chains of perfect people's perfect norms. Weekends just need to be more me and less perfect.
Before, I might have tried to put on a public pleaser weekend combo of skinny jeans + striped sweaters + big brand, colorful leather bags + shoes. Anything less than that would put a standard perfectionist into stress-induced coma when walking into a Zara store or the local sushi spots. Now, I see the whole picture a little differently. Something along the lines of this:
Weekend skinny jeans: OK, I'm going to have to assume that they're from GAP. Let's not kid ourselves. They always are. Why would I want to look like GAP is my grandfather's last name and I just have to carry the family legacy into future generations by wearing moderately washed, skinny jeans? No, my grandfather's last name is not GAP and skinny jeans hurt after a satisfying meal.
Striped sweater: Usually of wool+lycra combination (because lycra makes everything fit), slightly on the lighter side, sweaters with stripes. Stripes of course have to belong to the same color family but can be at varying shades. As if they're allowed to be different from the rest of the sweater but still bound by the rules of it. If stripes decided to revolt and scream of completely different colors or if they were not straight stripes at all but just wiggly lines, nobody would chose to buy them. Why? Because they wouldn't be perfect then. They would be wiggly, duh. Weekend dresser, world owes you everything for knowing that stripes are meant to be nothing but straight. Stay strong.
Big brand, colorful, leather bag: They speak, don't they? You can actually hear the leather say "I matter in this world" as you walk among strangers, who can't take their eyes off your bag. One glimpse and it goes on to say " I spend more on cleaning my pet's stools than you spend on your groceries. That's right, my dog's poop is more valuable than your food. It probably smells better too". When your arm candy starts talking a mile a minute, just remember it was made in China and there's a high chance that in reality it's only 50% real leather. Rest could be overfed chicken shit for all you know. Wait! It could be right about the poop part after all.
Big brand, colorful, leather shoes: By color, we certainly don't mean black/beige/white or gray, do we? Unless any of those colors are combined with a flashy neon stripe - because we like stripes but you already know that- we are not OK. We must have a bright color. World doesn't get it. We're in desperate need of a bright color to complete the perfect weekend combo. Because that's how wild we go on the weekends. Because we're fun and fun must come in unusual colors. Hey, we are not boring even though black/beige/white or gray is all we wear on week days but that's just because we're professionals. On the weekend, we are fun. By this logic, professionals cannot be fun people but let's not confuse ourselves with all that now. Lord, give us more red/green/purple and hopefully some yellow flats and oxfords or else we are destined to fail at everything.
Instead of the perfect weekend combo inflicted on modern woman by societal norms of perfectionism, I chose me. At least on the weekends, I will not look anything like everyone expects me to. I will step outside in my PJs if I feel like doing so. And no, I will not brush my hair, not that I have much of it left. I chopped it off because society expects women to have long hair and also because my showers now take 5 minutes instead of 55.
When you see me strolling down the street on the corner of Broadway and 80th street, please don't assume that "I don't give a fuck". It might very well be that I find my PJs and unbrushed hair combo very appropriate for the weekend. There might also be days when I walk out of my apartment looking like Rita Hayworth did back in the 40s. See what I mean?
I might dress up or down or hang in the middle. Whatever my perfect is what I shall carry out. There is nothing wrong with liking skinny GAP jeans either by the way; they might be your perfect. Let's just not dress for fitting in but more for self expression. Let's care a little less about crowd pleasing and be more interested in being pleased.
Perfectionism comes with many rules. I don't like rules. I like to live a little, at least on the weekends.