I thought I would create a post to define the title of my blog, because it does have a special meaning for me…
I have been going out in pubic for years now styled in very “out there” looks. All nights vary from blue haired wigs (before Katy Perry did it, for the record), to tribal face make-up, to being dressed to the nines. Mind you, many of the times I am going to a regular, mainstream establishment where most are not dressed up.
When I used to go out to my favorite bar the Vault, in Redlands, I would usually go alone, so that I could mingle with everyone at the bar, and meet new people. In addition to going alone, I would arrive in extreme fashion styles. Frankly, I always thought I looked amazing, but often times I could feel the judgement as soon as I walked in the bar. Heads would turn, eyes might widen and the whispers would ensue. Was it good or bad commentary? I’d never know… Guys would give me more positive feedback than girls, usually complimenting me on my daring look that I had executed well. As a Communications major, I pick up on nonverbal behavior and expressions extremely well, not sure whether that is a gift or a curse… But with guys and girls alike, I would more often than not receive a facial expression that read: What is she doing? Why?
Of course I would feel slightly uneasy, especially being there solo with no friends to cling to, and no one at my side to support my presence. I would get irritated with people clearly gawking at me with nothing to say. But, I’d hold my head high, smile and make my rounds at the bar as usual.
My response to these blank stares, and this prevailing question of “What is she doing?” was always (in a sassy manner), “It’s called STYLE, baby.” People just couldn’t wrap their minds around the fact that an individual would want to dress up—- for no reason. I don’t feel like I’m “dressing up for no reason…” I simply am showing the world, my STYLE. My style is just different than most.
So, starting a blog that focuses on my personal tastes in fashion, should obviously have no other name than what it is:
“It’s called style, baby.”