mannequin

i'm pretty sure that i've now become one of those guys, and i'm not entirely sure how i feel about it.. i'm the guy that gets parodied in tv shows and movies, that stand-up comics allude to in their act, the guy that stands around in the department store while his significant other browses through racks and racks and racks of clothes.. and then sits patiently with eyes glazing over outside the dressing room while she tries on said racks and racks and racks of clothes.. is this what a bonding relationship is meant to be? the only relative torture i could imagine putting her through would be to go shopping at record stores.. or watch sports - isn't that the gender stereotype? she loves shopping and i can't understand it and suffer through it, and it's vice versa for sports.. at any rate, through the need to cultivate and maintain a loving and happy relationship, i'm now the guy who is more or less cuckolded by Macy's..

oh, and i went to the thrift store the other day to try to find some new shirts, because along with the previous confession, it appears that i'm also renovating and re-defining my wardrobe, which isn't wholly out of my control, but still a peculiar development nonetheless.. and i couldn't find anything i liked, which certainly happens at thrift stores from time to time, but it wasn't even like i tried to convince myself of anything like i normally would.. i didn't imagine how certain items of clothing could be paired together in a muddled and motley fashion that only i could understand; i just shrugged my shoulders and went to buy some name-brand clothing instead.. and the things hanging in my closet look really nice - i have 4 ringer t-shirts from the Gap.. seriously? yes, seriously.. and i'm fighting the urge to cut off the excess length from my jeans and convincing myself to wait until i can have them professionally altered and hemmed, because it will look nicer that way.. next thing you know i'll be paying my bills on time..

there's always been an odd balance between how i myself dressed myself and the mockery that i spread among the people that i passed on the street and in the mall every week concerning their ludicrous fashion choices.. and then i met someone who shares that sense of mockery, but who also has good taste in clothing, and has indirectly and unknowingly pointed out to me the slight hypocrisy in my notions.. yes, socks and sandals are always bad, yes a brown belt and black shoes are horrid, and no you should never wear pajama pants out of the house, but what about a band t-shirt with holes in the fabric, regardless of how much you love that band? what about a sweater that's too short for you, even though it was a phenomenal deal when you bought it? at some point you have to accept that looking good actually means dressing well, and still expressing your personal tastes and styles, but not making your choices based on those tastes and styles.. fit and the holistic aesthetic has to come first, with flair and personalization being ancillary..

and don't even get me started on "what not to wear" and "tim gunn's guide to style".. i swear i still like having sex with women.. well, one in particular.. i'm just growing into myself, god help me..