I'm feeling a bit lost at the moment. I don't know what to do and most importantly I don't know what to wear. Well I do know what to wear but I don't know... I'm in this weird situation I hope will sound familiar. Although typing this, it's mostly those kind of situations I find that are most relatable. The moment you think you've got "this weird thing", it mostly ain't. Lucky me.

My troubles aren't as much related to the actual clothing --I adore every single piece that's been cramped into my little wardrobe. However I've never had that feeling of completion or satisfaction. I always find gaps for more clothes to cramp onto my little rack, hoping it won't suffer too much from my newest acquisitions.



The other day I was reading a fashion magazine and came across this monthly article (although to be fair it's a monthly magazine... does that than still count as a monthly article in the sense that it's been put?) about the inside of someone's closet. Besides being overly interested into my own possessions, I'm also very nosey for all that what others own. Now I must say that this wardrobe wasn't really one of my taste, but the thing that struck me was the accompanied interview.

The owner of the wardrobe expressed her feelings of satisfaction towards her own collection. She stated that this was it. She had completed her task of filling her rack with everything she needed and was done. Complete. She'd catched them all. Her perfect wardrobe. She even said that there were two filled garbage bags awaiting at home, ready to be brought to the charity shop...


The woman in question is 23 years old and done with trying to find out how to express herself 100% to the outer world (or atleast that's what she stated in the magazine). This 100% thus also includes her being as a person, a human being, a living and breathing creature. One way I must say that I find it quite admirable. It made me think, it made me question, but most of all it made me sad knowing that I'll never experience that feeling, because I'm just not that kind of person. I'll always wonder and question and change and, well, evolve in some way I guess and will never ever be satisfied with what I got and who I am. In my mind there always needs to be something to "dream" about (although typed that, I'm not that kind of person who invisions her life ten years ahead. Not to sound too macabre, but you could be dead after every second that has passed. Not too macabre, right?). How can you say that you're finished? That your life journey has ended at the age of 23. That your search is finito, pronto, SPENTO! How can you ever say, with two feet standing firmly on the ground, "I am what I am and I know what I am not." It sounds like a real fairytale, if not horror story, to me (what's more frightening to be what you are, nothing more, nothing less??).


It's taken me quite some time (and since of late I've been questioning this idea, but maybe later more on that (probably not, but still a nice thing to say)) but it might be, just probably, maybe, can be, a bit, quite, I don't know okay to be me. Or in that same sentence: to be you. There are however a few problems with this assumption mainly considering, as dramatically sung by Jean Valjean, who am I?

It's been said that you are what you eat, you are what you say and you are what you wear. But what do I eat, what do I say and again most importantly what do I wear? Oh, the struggles...

So who am I? 
24601!*

Love,
Dominique



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*She sings dramatically, in her head, while slowly sipping some tea and trying to digest her meal. Oh how glamorous the world can be...