Hello special you,
We, that is, me and your clothes, want you to know that we think you are beautiful. With or without us. Some of us are utterly in love with you. Some of us, sadly, love you a little less utterly.
While hanging out, lying down or hiding away we’ve all agreed that we must to talk with you. We’ve felt like this for sometime. We feel you’re finally ready to hear us out.
This is what we have to say…
We are immensely grateful to you for rescuing us. Aiding our escape, from shopping malls’, unflattering light. The cold steel feel of metal hangers. And, mindless, constant, careless rifling and mangling. Our joy of freedom, however, gets quickly diminished when we witness your shame and pain of buyers’ remorse.
We are of mixed fortunes. Some of us are clearly favoured, enjoying regular ventures out, while others, see the light of day, only, once or twice. Others of us only get to experience one-off special occasions. A hot first date… a friends wedding… the firm’s Christmas party… the races. Obviously, disappointing you, we are cast aside the next first date, wedding, party or race.
There are many of us who’d like to go out together. We’ve heard the latest catwalk talk. Stripes and checks. Floral and dots. Work. Together. Stylishly. We know we can complement each other. Give you more options. Put paid to your whines of, ‘I never have anything to wear.’ Perhaps. Even. You’d realise you could live with less of us. And, halt your need to constantly replenish.
Some of us are so ashamed of our abandonment. Languishing between the soft, seductive tissue of the designer, look good, shopping bag. Still tagged. We love you less utterly.
We lie confused. Dejected. Useless without intended purpose. Our pained whispers, reach the, privileged, hanging high above. ‘I heard her say she must have us…how perfect w’d be with her purple pants…how she’d always wanted one just like us and how worth us she was.’ And now…well we’re still wrapped and tagged. Frankly. What the fuck is that all about?
The more intuitive of us knew when you’d never wear us. Bought impulsively. With hope. For a better feeling you. A more attractive you. Or, as a cure all remedy, for a broken heart. A sunken spirit. A sucky life.
You even try, to give some of us super powers. Like… making you look 4 kilos lighter… gifting you inordinate motivation, and stamina, to live on cabbage soup. For a month. Or two. Until we fit.
Even more ridiculously, you empower us to make your dreams come true. A stellar, six figure career… a white wedding to a George Clooney lookalike… a perfect life. We wish!
We’re sorry. We let you down. Big time.
The truth is. We were never up to the job. Some of us can fake it for a bit. But, in reality it’s not our strong suite or our life’s purpose. We’re merely sackcloth and ashes.
This might sound a little harsh but…you must source your happiness from within.
Outsourcing your happiness, at best brings you a shallow short burst. At, worst it has you disappointed. Dependent. Depleted. Ever wanting more. Even addicted.
We’ve heard you have the highest super power.
The power to create the life you want. Yes. Really. Right here. Right now.
And, finally questions and a request or two.
Take us all out and appraise us.
Honestly. Do you still love us? Do we still fit? Did we ever fit? Have you worn us in the past 12 months? Do we make you feel amazing? (We sooo want to) Will you wear us again, soon?
If you can’t say yes, then with grace and respect, set us free. Donate us. Amend us. Ditch us.
Us, the lucky left ones, want you to feel the girly glee of gorgeousness.
You are amazing. Unique and beautiful. With or without us.
We thank you for listening.
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