With the advent of spring, almost every woman wants to update her wardrobe. And every second feels guilty about it. But why?
With the onset of warm days, I would like to act as a wardrobe advocate. Not my own, but my wardrobe in general, as a toolkit, as a part of speech, if you like. And to speak not personally on my own behalf, but on behalf of all women who more or less cover their bodies. It’s not like our wardrobe is in any particular need of protection. But there are moments when its role is difficult to overestimate.
Men – I’m talking about that brutal breed that all women have in mind when dividing the world into two halves – hardly know the thrill of a small renaissance that lurks in dressing up. In English elementary schools, which in our country are equal in age to a kindergarten, the space, for example, is divided as follows: a room for games, a room for drawing and a room for … dressing up as princesses! That is, this, so to speak, option is put on a par with developing programs. And it is considered extremely important for the formation of the personality of the girl.
I suspect that men are more or less aware of this state of affairs. They like it when a woman is dressed with taste and variety. But how and why she does it – that’s better not to. Only in a nightmare can a man imagine a day killed in a store, at a fashion show, or at a dressmaker’s. They, men, are busy with highly spiritual and sustainable material things, they have no time to grieve on the topic “blue has already changed green, and I have been wearing a beige jacket for the third year.” Clothes, as, indeed, all household items, according to men, it is reasonable to change only when they, the items, finally fail. Pants – when torn. Boots – when the sole comes off, coat – when it stops fastening on the stomach. Whether business the woman. The idea of renewal is biologically embedded in her, adorns her every age, reminds her with his lunar calendar. And a woman naturally transfers it to the whole circle of her decorative interests. She would go crazy for fresh flowers, starched white bedding. His freshness for her is a symbol of innocence, virgin land, which she left as a guarantee of universal (read: male) happiness. A rare man from the regular customers of the neighboring laundry is able to appreciate this. And the new season? For some reason, it is considered ritually correct to wear something new for the New Year. And spring comes – and such a natural desire to change gloves, shoes, and at least lipstick – makes you in the eyes (the worst thing is in your own) a spender, a frivolous blonde, a caterpillar that undermines the family budget.
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The heroine of the series “Sex and the City” Carrie was obsessed with expensive shoes from Manolo Blahnik. At the same time, she passionately studied life, at least provided for herself, succeeding in the magazine, helping her friends, that is, she did not look like a finished Barbie. But it looked just the opposite – stunning. True, the passion for outfits did not solve her matrimonial problems in any way, but Carrie herself was in complete harmony with herself only when she was dressed appropriately and with chic. Another heroine, Bridget Jones from the eponymous “Diary …”, confusing the circumstances of time and action, showed up at a secular party in a bunny costume. Remember? Approximately the same, in my deep conviction, any woman feels on the threshold of spring-summer-autumn, deprived of the opportunity to update her exterior at least in detail. There is a philosophy that clothes are garbage. It does not mean anything at all, in any case, it means not so much as money of time and dreams is spent on it. “I will wear these jeans until I am old, and when I am old, I will take her pregnant dress from my daughter.” But we have been accustomed to meet by clothes for centuries of etiquette, embedded in symbols and external signs. And carelessness in clothes and even deliberate ignoring of its aesthetic component will tell us about a person no less than his most intimate diary. I remember Meryl Streep’s brilliant monologue as fashion magazine owner Miranda Priestley in The Devil Wears Prada. The sample of rhetoric that delighted me was addressed to a young employee, an intellectual who allegedly neglects fashion and design. The impeccable logic of this “ode to the blue pullover” is that any European person is associated with fashion, with its symbolism, by virtue of its aesthetic program, which is embedded in us from birth. And with its industry – by virtue of its socialization. And you can’t write anything here. To demonstrate your independence, you would have to go out naked, but instead, all you can do is prefer secondhand boutiques. Clothing is not only a translator of our taste and status, it speaks of our mood, character, attitude to life in general and to ourselves. And fashion, if we take into account its phenomenal impact on minds and souls, is designed to make up for the lack of color, shapes, desires, just like miniskirts in the post-war period tried to solve the problem of the shortage of men. We have no right to neglect it, just as we have no right to pluck feathers from turtle doves. Although in the world of animals, males always look more elegant. Well, here’s something to think about…