A couple days ago, I posted some writing in opposition to the Slob Rant by a writer at the New York Post. I came across it because one of my favorite writers dropped a post opposite to in opposition to the rant, erm– I mean that he agreed with it. Both writers jibe that people who dress like slobs look like, well, slobs. (They use a few harsher terms, too. RE: Subhuman, which I’m now aiming for as a goal to be labeled… It sounds like I’m a character from X-Men and I get to go to the school for gifted youngsters.) I’m still v. much in agreement with, and a fan of, my post opposing their slob theories. However, I’ll admit I am also in opposition to my opposition.
(RE: My mind should be studied by professionals, or better, read by *Prof. X.)
I posted my daily #IAmWorthIt pic on Instagram and the caption is in opposition to my previous post in opposition to the rant post. I wanted to share it:
I'm usually v. against feet pics but there's always the exception. Pictured here is my feet (again, sorry!) wearing wedges & my legs wearing new jeans. Last wk I wrote a blog after reading two writers rant about how people need to dress better… I was like: AH, HELL NO. However after laying on my floor for an hour or so earlier, I would like to revise my statement: MAYBE. Although I still think there are way more fun & important things in life than wearing proper clothes places, (ex: love, chewing gum & the pursuit of happiness, & plus there's Netflix!) I do agree I was wrong maybe… I kinda have given up on my life. I'm 24, and I have zero excitement about my future… Not okay. It's hard planning a life that doesn't include my mama. But I also don't wanna spend any more time crying on my dirty floor (it'll still happen, sometimes.) I may not know what my plan is now but I think it starts w/ today… Taking baby steps forward in my wedge heels & my big girl pants, bc HELL YAAS, #IAmWorthIt (P.S. my big girl pants literally bc my new pants are a bit too big… But see? I got room to grow in so many ways!)
*Last Halloween, my brother and I had begged and pleaded for my mama– who’d lost all of her hair as a chemo side effect– to dress up as Professor X. We even made plans to borrow a wheelchair from the cancer hospital as she didn’t have (or need) to own one yet. But alas, she decided no.
P.S. I did suffer a bit while I was nicely dressed. And, my pain was caused bc I was, for real, “lookin’ cute.” I was caught off guard when this random man approached me, IN THE DARK! HE GAVE ME A HEART ATTACK. Then it got worse: he spoke. Despite, mind you, that I was wearing headphones…for the love of God, why?! He said, “Can I ask you a question? (No.) My friends and I were just talking (Good! Go back to them. I bet they miss you!) about if it weirds people out more when someone comes over to talk to them if it’s dark out? Like, instead of, when it’s noon and the sun’s coming down and there’s more light.” I shit you not… That is what he said. I cannot, cannot, cannot make this shit up, people! If I could, I wouldn’t have a stupid blog for free, bc I’d have a bestseller, and y’all would be rubbing my feet while feeding me Oreos, yum! I replied, “Yes. It’s freaky. Especially, just now, when you gave me a heart attack. This is the time of night when homeless people come around asking for money.” He told me his life story, asked for my number, and said I look “really cute” 😦 Damn these wedges & big pants! The sun had just set, and luckily, there was still enough light out that I could see he didn’t have a weapon, or pizza, so I safely and politely said no.
P.P.S. My final word on dressing well is it may not be for parks.