This is beautifully written and I fully understand where you are coming from. I've never managed to make vintage work for me, but have admired your looks for many years. I am a few years older than you but grappling with many of the same issues. I work as a costume maker and love clothes, but I am also at a point where I care about being 100% physically comfortable. It's my mother's funeral in a couple of weeks and I don't want to wear heels because I don't want to risk hurting my back or dodgy knee. This is more important to me now. But I still have the desire for creativity and self-expression through clothing. I don’t have any answers, but I would love to follow you on this different journey if you feel like continuing to share it.
I know what you are going through, and you articulated it so honestly and beautifully for me. I was my business, and my business was me—it still is, but I can't be the participant that I once was due to psoriatic arthritis and all it has brought to my life. It is really hard to know how to accept the change for oneself—or even if I should accept the change.
Your essay made me cry. I'm dealing with a chronic illness that has wreaked all sorts of changes on my body on top of ageing and so related strongly to your essay. It's been seven years since I got sick and I still don't fully recognise photos of myself with this very different body. It's traumatic to not be able to reconcile exterior with interior. It shatters our sense of identity.
Thank you. You're a wonderful writer and I'm grateful for all your insights. Whether they be on vintage designers or the dissonance that comes with living in our late stage capitalist hellscape.
I was recently thinking I miss seeing your posts, but life must have brought changes.
Some of the best things in life are just short seasons and are never the same again.
I also recently questioned if something was deeply wrong with me when I considered that I used to shave my legs everyday and now manage only once a week. But I don’t wear dresses very often anymore and priorities change.
Aging is an interesting process. I’ll be your captive audience if you have more to share in the future. I just turned 40 and see so clearly that I’m not getting any younger or better looking. But I don’t plan to waste time being sad about it.
Did I write this, and forget? No, I'm not so eloquent. But every moment of it resonates. The dissonance, the weight gain, the change in priorities, everything. As evidenced by the comments below, you—we—are not alone or forging new paths. Many have been here before, and many will follow. I am buoyed by witnessing a new generation who proudly DGAF about the beauty standards we have been indoctrinated by, and though I will always -appreciate- a nipped waist and coiffed hair, I know it doesn't have to be mine. At least, I tell myself it doesn't have to be mine and some days, I believe me.
So relatable, even tho fashion wasn't my business - it was something I was passionate about early on & now I find myself thinking my body is rebelling against me. I don't want it to look this way & I don't want it to be so important to me.
This is beautifully written and I fully understand where you are coming from. I've never managed to make vintage work for me, but have admired your looks for many years. I am a few years older than you but grappling with many of the same issues. I work as a costume maker and love clothes, but I am also at a point where I care about being 100% physically comfortable. It's my mother's funeral in a couple of weeks and I don't want to wear heels because I don't want to risk hurting my back or dodgy knee. This is more important to me now. But I still have the desire for creativity and self-expression through clothing. I don’t have any answers, but I would love to follow you on this different journey if you feel like continuing to share it.
Thanks for sharing this.
I know what you are going through, and you articulated it so honestly and beautifully for me. I was my business, and my business was me—it still is, but I can't be the participant that I once was due to psoriatic arthritis and all it has brought to my life. It is really hard to know how to accept the change for oneself—or even if I should accept the change.
Your essay made me cry. I'm dealing with a chronic illness that has wreaked all sorts of changes on my body on top of ageing and so related strongly to your essay. It's been seven years since I got sick and I still don't fully recognise photos of myself with this very different body. It's traumatic to not be able to reconcile exterior with interior. It shatters our sense of identity.
Thank you. You're a wonderful writer and I'm grateful for all your insights. Whether they be on vintage designers or the dissonance that comes with living in our late stage capitalist hellscape.
I'll follow you wherever you go
I was recently thinking I miss seeing your posts, but life must have brought changes.
Some of the best things in life are just short seasons and are never the same again.
I also recently questioned if something was deeply wrong with me when I considered that I used to shave my legs everyday and now manage only once a week. But I don’t wear dresses very often anymore and priorities change.
Aging is an interesting process. I’ll be your captive audience if you have more to share in the future. I just turned 40 and see so clearly that I’m not getting any younger or better looking. But I don’t plan to waste time being sad about it.
Did I write this, and forget? No, I'm not so eloquent. But every moment of it resonates. The dissonance, the weight gain, the change in priorities, everything. As evidenced by the comments below, you—we—are not alone or forging new paths. Many have been here before, and many will follow. I am buoyed by witnessing a new generation who proudly DGAF about the beauty standards we have been indoctrinated by, and though I will always -appreciate- a nipped waist and coiffed hair, I know it doesn't have to be mine. At least, I tell myself it doesn't have to be mine and some days, I believe me.
So relatable, even tho fashion wasn't my business - it was something I was passionate about early on & now I find myself thinking my body is rebelling against me. I don't want it to look this way & I don't want it to be so important to me.
I could read a novel-worth of this content. I need it.