I used to take a LOT of selfies. Pretty much every second photo I shared on Instagram or Facebook was a ‘what I’m wearing’ pic. And you might have noticed that I don’t do that very often lately. And you might even (if you care a smidge for me) have wondered why.
There are a few reasons. The first big one is that I’m just not feeling inspired by my wardrobe and the outfit combinations I have in front of me when I’m standing staring at the rails of clothes in the mornings. This comes and goes, and doesn’t worry me very much.
The second reason is that I wear a uniform a lot now. Le sigh. A red Dri-fit polo shirt, three days a week. I wear this with any of a number of black Lorna Jane shorts/cargo pants/tracksuit pants (yes… I wear trackies to work) and sneakers, either black or white. Now do you understand why I don’t snap many pics of myself in this gorgeous get-up?
The third reason is that I worry about people judging me. Yup, I’m like everyone else out there, and way too concerned with other people’s opinions.
‘Hang on,’ you say, ‘isn’t that why people post selfies and outfit photos on Instagram though? For others to look at and judge?’
Why no, my dear friends. No it’s damn well not. I post outfit photos because I like seeing other outfit photos, and I feel inspired by style bloggers (completely separate from fashion bloggers, because who has the funds to keep up with fashion?) who wear a really cute striped tee with a denim vest over the top and I think ‘Hey! I’ve got striped tees and denim vests, I’ll try that. And maybe, just maybe, someone might look at my (probably coral and/or stripe tee) outfit and think ‘That’s cute, I might wear my stuff like that’. Or they might not, and that’s ok too.
But I don’t think it’s ok for regular people to be judged on their everyday style choices. Celebrities who are famous for being celebrities, sure. I mean, I’ll rag on Kim Kardashian’s poor choice of ankle-strap stilettos until the sun comes up, but if a mum from Melbourne wants to wear those, good on her. Kim K (and pretty much anyone else in her clique) wear clothes TO GET REACTIONS from us, and from the media. Normal people wear clothes so their private parts don’t show. Yes, double standards; but I never said things were fair.
All this to say that I had a brutal customer experience at work a month or so ago, and have only just noticed that it’s affected how I get dressed in the morning, and how I share images of myself on social media. And I want to get myself out of that slump.
I was so excited about them that I wore said tights to work the day after I bought them (who doesn’t do that? Nobody, that’s who). I took a couple of pics in the fit room before work to send to my bestie (who is as much of a Lorna Jane print tight lover as me) and thought I might also share on Instagram later in the day. Lesson two: share outfit pics on Instagram shortly after you take them, don’t overthink it.
Before I got the chance to go sit in the sun on my lunchbreak, read excellent text compliments from my best friend on my new tights, and post a photo on Instagram, a customer walked instore and insulted me. Ok, so she didn’t just come in and smack me in the face with cruel words, but she really hurt me. She wanted tights for exercise (you’re in the right place, lady), the conversation was running along nicely, and after I explained the lengths of tights available, she told me what she wanted, so I pointed at mine, and confirmed ‘You’d like a 7/8 style, like the ones I’m wearing?’ (Retail 101. Always confirm what they want, because sometimes they explain very, very poorly.)
Her response almost floored me. ‘No way, I don’t want those. I don’t think bigger girls like you should ever wear printed tights.’ With a sneer. I smiled of course, and handed the customer over to a collegue. Then went and ate my body weight in avocado and fetta on Turkish bread because carbs.
Who even? I thought we clarified I was talking about the LENGTH OF THE TIGHTS, you muppet. Apparently not. And apparently you have rules on who should wear what. To which I say, leggings are pants. And print schmint. But that little exchange did upset me. I didn’t post my photos on Instagram for a day or so, because I felt that I looked a lot bigger in them, and that I would get similar comments if I posted the photos. Lucky for me, my Instagram community are lovely. Lesson three: believe compliments, ignore criticism.
Do you have any hot tips on feeling better about posting outfit photos? Have you ever had days, weeks, months, where you feel like you can’t share?
And how would you have (politely) responded to a comment like the one I got at work?
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