Before I take the train back to my girlfriend's place, I have been sorting through some old clothes either to put in the charity bag; to see if I will one day fit into them if I lose weight again; and finally if I can still wear them or want to wear them again.
I find that clothes identify me with both a time and a sense of self. The sense of self that I had in certain times make me feel embarrased. I never went out very much during school and college and I suppose I didn't have many good friends outside of school and college, that meaning, that I hardly met them outside of school. There is also the factor that we had a lot more parental dependence during those days.
I am reminded of phases or tidbits of my life.
a. 2005: I was still in the big room, my brother only recently moved back into the house. It was said to only be temporary that my brother arranged to live back with our parents. Not only does he currently still live here, but he also took the big room. I am now in the shitty box room that has been de-personalised with many objects and effects that do not belong to me. I remember a point in the summer when I could not ut my favourite trousers on. They were a soft cotton dark navy pair of fairly casual-smart trousers that had a fair amont of comfort and cool in equal measure. I couldn't fit into them because of my overeating; because of my habits of eating a readymeal in the oven every afternoon, eating all of the ice cream as soon as it came; picking on food throughout my summer when I had nothing to do in those months between university years. I cried as I struggled to put on my torousers, with the door closed, I also came to find my parents were calling me for some event and they werein a hurry.
Anguish filled me, self-hate, regret at all of those times I decided to eat, but also, a sense that I was not in control of my situation; a sense in which I had no way of changing this situation and all I could volitionally do was make it worse. My depression consumed me and I refused to accept that fact. Partly because I aw that accepting it would make it worse, and partly because I by not progressing, did not effect much change. For me, seeing those trousers again represented a single moment, that moment when I was hiding the fact that Iwas crying strongly, and feeling a strong sense of self-resentment.
b. I found also the 'goth jacket'. Im not quite sure why I bought that, It was during a period in sept-oct 2006, when most of my days comprised of walking about either laying in bed or masticating via the takeaways on the nearby village part of the university town. I lived a pretty bleak existence. It was after the anxiety of 2nd year where my problem was mainly anxiety, I felt like I was getting better for a bit and then an event trigged an even worse off.
I saw that there was a clique who were emerging from friends of some friends I had at the ADC, because I was very anxious and silent a lot of the time, I never really had much to say or had the chance to be part of their clique: especially because I felt that I had some similarities to them. I got this goth jacket in an attempt to try to establish some sense of character to identify with. It also hid my fat pretty well. I found that the jacket was ill-fitting to my character sensibilities, although I am far from saying that my sensibilities are fixed, I feel a little bit more conformist or 'bland' in my clothing choice; while I do have ideosyncracies and things I must hold to which may be unique. I don't feel like making a bold stand is part of it. I prefer things that are both practical and expressive in clothing, rather than being all image, which, I suppose is how I see the jacket. It was my desperate attempt to be part of a 'clique' or some kind of 'scene' or 'trend' or 'group'.
c. During this period of the start of my first undergraduate year I also purchased poorly decided military surplus. I have always considered that military surplus stores have real gems. I use a pair of oxford parade shoes in every formal gathering. They have served me well for 4 years and I feel real attachment and pride to it. I hope they last me many more years. I also bought some things which fail to come of use. I do still use a green towel from the surplus store, but I found a weird soldier's belt that didn't actually fit me. It fills me with embarrassment and shame, and I have tried many times to find use of the very cool looking belt; I still am looking for a way to use it...
d. While on the subject of belts, I used to have a belt that I was very proud of, it was a nice leather suit belt that I wore with pride with all the suits I wore, and I did indeed wear a lot of suits, it was part of that loss of identity of being in the all boys school and not having a social life, that I thought wearing a suit was a sign of professionalism, pride and intellectual rigor. I slowly moved out of that, but some friends still adhere to that norm in their dress shirt-wearing and black shoes. I used to wear suits, it was a part of me. I later tried to break out of this in the university years. Finding my identity was muddied by my depression.
I expressed confusion in my dress sense, a sense of me hiding in the big clothes, and I did not feel very proactive or willing to change. I had these belts during the days when I would go with some friends to a 'club' yet not actually talk to any girls or anything. It was a miserable failure fuleld by lack of confidence. I tried to be cool with the high street fashion trends but found myself to be superficial, insecure, lacking the very depth that I thought I had that made me different.
Here's to writing about my memories. Now that I've said it in this diary, I fele no need to revisit this art of my past again. I feel free to let go of it. I feel free to remove it from existence.
I find that clothes identify me with both a time and a sense of self. The sense of self that I had in certain times make me feel embarrased. I never went out very much during school and college and I suppose I didn't have many good friends outside of school and college, that meaning, that I hardly met them outside of school. There is also the factor that we had a lot more parental dependence during those days.
I am reminded of phases or tidbits of my life.
a. 2005: I was still in the big room, my brother only recently moved back into the house. It was said to only be temporary that my brother arranged to live back with our parents. Not only does he currently still live here, but he also took the big room. I am now in the shitty box room that has been de-personalised with many objects and effects that do not belong to me. I remember a point in the summer when I could not ut my favourite trousers on. They were a soft cotton dark navy pair of fairly casual-smart trousers that had a fair amont of comfort and cool in equal measure. I couldn't fit into them because of my overeating; because of my habits of eating a readymeal in the oven every afternoon, eating all of the ice cream as soon as it came; picking on food throughout my summer when I had nothing to do in those months between university years. I cried as I struggled to put on my torousers, with the door closed, I also came to find my parents were calling me for some event and they werein a hurry.
Anguish filled me, self-hate, regret at all of those times I decided to eat, but also, a sense that I was not in control of my situation; a sense in which I had no way of changing this situation and all I could volitionally do was make it worse. My depression consumed me and I refused to accept that fact. Partly because I aw that accepting it would make it worse, and partly because I by not progressing, did not effect much change. For me, seeing those trousers again represented a single moment, that moment when I was hiding the fact that Iwas crying strongly, and feeling a strong sense of self-resentment.
b. I found also the 'goth jacket'. Im not quite sure why I bought that, It was during a period in sept-oct 2006, when most of my days comprised of walking about either laying in bed or masticating via the takeaways on the nearby village part of the university town. I lived a pretty bleak existence. It was after the anxiety of 2nd year where my problem was mainly anxiety, I felt like I was getting better for a bit and then an event trigged an even worse off.
I saw that there was a clique who were emerging from friends of some friends I had at the ADC, because I was very anxious and silent a lot of the time, I never really had much to say or had the chance to be part of their clique: especially because I felt that I had some similarities to them. I got this goth jacket in an attempt to try to establish some sense of character to identify with. It also hid my fat pretty well. I found that the jacket was ill-fitting to my character sensibilities, although I am far from saying that my sensibilities are fixed, I feel a little bit more conformist or 'bland' in my clothing choice; while I do have ideosyncracies and things I must hold to which may be unique. I don't feel like making a bold stand is part of it. I prefer things that are both practical and expressive in clothing, rather than being all image, which, I suppose is how I see the jacket. It was my desperate attempt to be part of a 'clique' or some kind of 'scene' or 'trend' or 'group'.
c. During this period of the start of my first undergraduate year I also purchased poorly decided military surplus. I have always considered that military surplus stores have real gems. I use a pair of oxford parade shoes in every formal gathering. They have served me well for 4 years and I feel real attachment and pride to it. I hope they last me many more years. I also bought some things which fail to come of use. I do still use a green towel from the surplus store, but I found a weird soldier's belt that didn't actually fit me. It fills me with embarrassment and shame, and I have tried many times to find use of the very cool looking belt; I still am looking for a way to use it...
d. While on the subject of belts, I used to have a belt that I was very proud of, it was a nice leather suit belt that I wore with pride with all the suits I wore, and I did indeed wear a lot of suits, it was part of that loss of identity of being in the all boys school and not having a social life, that I thought wearing a suit was a sign of professionalism, pride and intellectual rigor. I slowly moved out of that, but some friends still adhere to that norm in their dress shirt-wearing and black shoes. I used to wear suits, it was a part of me. I later tried to break out of this in the university years. Finding my identity was muddied by my depression.
I expressed confusion in my dress sense, a sense of me hiding in the big clothes, and I did not feel very proactive or willing to change. I had these belts during the days when I would go with some friends to a 'club' yet not actually talk to any girls or anything. It was a miserable failure fuleld by lack of confidence. I tried to be cool with the high street fashion trends but found myself to be superficial, insecure, lacking the very depth that I thought I had that made me different.
Here's to writing about my memories. Now that I've said it in this diary, I fele no need to revisit this art of my past again. I feel free to let go of it. I feel free to remove it from existence.
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