There’s just something about wearing a button-down and a vest and oxford shoes that … makes me smile. I really like wearing dresses too, and there’s something about a fully made up face that’s nice (without going into the politics of it all), and I do like wearing heels sometimes. The traditional trappings of femininity aren’t bad things. They aren’t the end-all be-all, but they’re not eeevil. I just … also love the styles that fall into the “dapper” category. I like looking at other people wearing that style, and I like dressing in that style. I don’t do it as often as I could, though, considering how many button-down shirts I own – or rather, I don’t do it to that extent. Usually I go for more of a business-casual route with the rolled-up sleeves rather than the full Monty. Which is weird, when I think about it. It’s not like the full Monty of button-downs and vests and oxford shoes are exactly inappropriate office attire.
I mean, ideally we’d be able to walk around like fluffy Renaissance shirts and dresses with trumpet sleeves down to the knees were normal office attire, right up there with glowing neon buttons on shirts and other fun things out of a Star Wars film, but that’s neither here nor there. Maybe in another century.
Though by then things like button-downs and oxfords will probably be seen as an archaic costume to dress up in, like Renaissance festivals now. Now imagine a twenty-second century “office party”-themed thing. Who knows what hilarious anachronisms there will be.
I guess flip-flopping between different styles is kind of like food. I really enjoy both sushi and pasta, but I’m more likely to go for pasta simply because it’s A) easier to find B) generally less expensive and C) I have to be in a Sushi Mood, whereas pasta is eternal.
Flip-flopping between different styles isn’t the weird thing, whether it’s clothing fashion or food or music genres or anything else. Hell, religion and lifestyle enter into it, too. Stereotypes exist because humans like assigning people to categories, and those categories allow our brains to take short-cuts instead of second guessing everything in our environment. But no one fits neatly into a template. It’s easy to reduce someone you don’t like to cardboard cut-out status, and it’s easy to write characters that are cardboard cut-outs, but the best characters are like humans – all humans – in that the first three things you notice about a person don’t necessarily define the rest of the person.
But appearance does matter, however much we might want to deny it. Everyone presents an image to the world, whether they do it consciously or not. And we like to say “don’t judge a book by its cover,” but we still do it, because some of the information that first impression presents is important.
Sometimes the little bug in the back of your brain says “I don’t like this person,” and you table it for later, and it turns out to be right. Sometimes the little bug in the back of your brain doesn’t say “I don’t like this person” until after they’ve provided reasons for you not to like them. Sometimes the little bug in the back of your brain waits until years after the person’s provided reasons not to like them, to realize what went wrong. And sometimes the little bug in the back of your brain says “I don’t like this person,” but they never give you an actual reason to dislike them, so you have to stuff that little bug back in its box.
But you never know what it’ll turn out to be.