People often ask me, "Rave, you are a pretty weird and introverted person afflicted with a number of mental illnesses and a thousand feelings, and also your hair behaves however in the fuck it pleases without regard for your preferences. How, in the face of these disadvantages, do you muster so much swag?"*
The answer, as indicated by the previous entry, is of course "stuff." No, it isn't. It's attitude towards stuff. And I am going to lead you through a beginner's guide to that attitude, because I got a new camera and it's really exciting and I took pictures of ALL THE THINGS!!! So here it is. Rave's Guide To Disposing Of Your Disposable Income, Living Well, and Being Awesome, Episode 2: How to Own Stuff You Love And Love Stuff You Own.** YMMV (Your Materialism May Vary).
1. The only reason to own anything is because it either a) actively makes you happy, or b) goes with and/or enhances something that actively makes you happy.
You should be fuckin excited about your stuff. I don't care if it's just a white button-down, there is a white button-down out there that will be a joy to wear. I've got mine on right now! It's Calvin Klein and boyfriend-cut and it buttons in this really neat-o way at the small of the back, and I didn't take a picture of it in my office bathroom because that would be really embarrassing except yes that is exactly what I did, except then my memory card wouldn't attach to this computer so basically I just Preteen Myspaced for no reason.
[IMAGE NOT FOUND BECAUSE DAMN YOU MEMORY CARD]
If you have an item in your closet that you never wear, then it isn't actively making you happy. I don't care how cool you think it is. If you don't wear it, it's just making you feel inadequate which is the opposite of happy. Stuff it under your bed for six months, and if you don't ever reach for it, put it on the street or EBay. The point is, if something doesn't make you happy, get rid of it. Find a version of it that brings you joy and then be grateful for that joy, even though it is shallow and ridiculous. Gratitude is the key to swag.
2. Be your own hottest significant other.
I am the planet's greatest girlfriend to myself. I ask myself what's wrong, I treat me to massages and long sensual baths, I make myself nice dinners for which I set the table and light candles. And when I go out on the town, I make me proud to be seen with me.
The way you personally choose to present your gender/sexuality is, obviously, a fuckin complex question. I personally have discovered, over the past year of actually paying attention, that I am a femme-ass girl. I enjoy shades of lipstick and shoes and CHOCOLATE CHOCOLATE CHOCOLATE ACK!! So this red tiered MaxStudio dress is one of my favorite things on this earth:
Maybe the thing that makes you feel sexy and/or confident and/or most boldly, wildly your own hottest date isn't
a red dress. Maybe it's a plaid shirt or a muumuu or a floppy sunhat or a pair of Birkenstocks or daisy dukes. Figure out what it is and wear the hell out of it. If there is one thing I have learned about enjoying my life it is this truth, articulated perfectly as usual by Personal Blog Hero Dolly Parton: "Find out who you are and do it on purpose."
Ugh, Dolly. Truth bombs all over the place.
3. The power of the LBD is not a myth.
I have no idea who made this soft, sleek backless black dress; I got it at a clothing swap and since then it has become one of my most beloved possessions.
No, I cannot wear it to work, but I have worn it to afternoon tea, bachelorette parties, rock concerts, the opera, New Year's Eve and the Fourth of July. It has come with me from London to the isolated jungles of Costa Rica and been appropriate ("appropriate") to both. It is the canvas on which I paint the kind of day I want to have. It is the Sisterhood of the Traveling Me. It is good and I look good in it and it goes with everything. Everybody needs something like that.
4. Lingerie is not for other people.
Most of the time when people talk about lingerie in the public sphere, it's like OOO A SEXY SEXY GIFT FOR YOUR MAN PUT ON SOME CORSETRY AND RUB ICE CUBES ON HIS NIPPLES!!! Fuck that noise. Lingerie is for you. It is for under your clothes when you are at work so you can remind yourself that you have a secret awesome self that does more than fill out excel spreadsheets. Or -- I do not mean to ~arouse you too much here, internet -- but it is a fact that when I am at home alone, I hang around my room in silks and heels. This is how I do my best writing, in fact. It makes me feel fancy and luxurious and indulged. And it is important -- it is genuinely important -- to indulge yourself.
I'm going to be honest with you: most of the time I just want to be a sassy dame in a black-and-white film a la Clara Bow or Claudette Colbert. A good shortcut to that is to think of my bedroom not as a 7x10 garret in a crumbling townhouse whose loudest inhabitant is a terrifyingly huge mouse who apparently lives in the oven. No, I have decided that my bedroom is a goddamned boudoir.
Or, in my case,
etc.
Another bonus of having lingerie for yourself is that it, like, doubles your wardrobe size. All those skirts you have that are too short to be allowed? A slip like this, with a cute subtle accordion-pleated hem, makes them seem totally acceptable and normal. You can get beautiful vintage stuff of this variety on
Etsy.
5. Have some stuff that makes you feel like a grownup.
Look. If you like fancy crap? It is okay for you to invest in that difference. It is. You cannot be buying it all the time willy-nilly, but for me
this kind of beautifully-
crafted shit is worth every single penny. (One day,
Carine Gilson. ONE DAY.) (And please, lord, if you are a 32A, SNAP UP THAT STELLA MCCARTNEY FOR THOSE OF US WHO CAN'T.)
Some things should be quality. They should last and they should be beautiful and they should make you pleased with yourself for owning it. I
own a watch now, and silly though this is, its mere presence on my wrist makes me feel like a person of substance. I own a serious leather wallet/clutch and every time I take it out of my purse I am like :]. That exact face. It makes me feel like I have the confidence and affection to invest in myself. And also it is soft and pleasant to the touch. Life is tough. Sensual pleasures are key.
And frankly, if you'd rather stick to the
rubber watch or the
duct tape wallet or the
$20 chemise from Target that makes you feel like a fuckin princess or, shit, if you would rather live in spartan monkish solitude and have no possessions at all, that's EQUALLY AWESOME.
You guys know the drill.
ETA GUYS OOOO URGENT STUFF UPDATE: If you like the look of this watch but find the insufferable privilege of the premise -- "SPEND ALL MONEYS!!!" -- impossible to surmount, loooook what I found:
Topshop sells a
pretty sweet version for a quarter of the price. YA WELCOME.
6. The only thing better than a pair of all-purpose flats that feel like walking on clouds and come in every conceivable color is a pair of all-purpose flats that feel like etc. etc. but also FOLD UP INTO THEIR OWN CUTE LITTLE BAG SO YOU CAN TAKE THEM EVERYWHERE.
DO NOT LEAVE HOME WITHOUT. 7. Have enough books.
That should just never be in question. Yes, you may ask yourself as you lug another box into your new walk-up, WHY DO I HAVE ALLL THESE BOOOKS AAAAAAAAAH MY NOODLE ARMS?!?!? But look, just. You should have them. Again, the "makes you actively happy/enhances something that makes you happy" rule applies.
8. Colors are neat.
Find combinations that please you and then employ them ad fucking nauseam.
8a. Anything worth having is worth having in another color.
I know it seems redundant and foolish, but bro, it isn't. You always want to be wearing those fucking shoes/that t-shirt/those jeans anyway; give yourself the opportunity to mix it up without actually having to mix it up.
8b. Anything worth having in many colors is worth arranging in an aesthetically pleasing manner.
Sometimes when everything is the worst, I color-code. I know; like everything else on this list, it is a petty joy and when you are gripped by despair nothing seems dumber than petty joys. but here is the secret, the thing I wish I could teach you but I can't because god knows I couldn't teach it to myself and the only thing I can do is put it in your brain so it will be useful to you someday: are you ready?: The small, stupid joys will save you. Nothing else will. I spent a long time waiting for some transcendent happiness to sweep away all of my pointless hurt. It doesn't work like that. You have to choose to save yourself in tiny ways, every single day.
Life lessons expressed via nailpolish. That's the kind of quality you can expect around here.
9. Fuck it; buy a romper.
To explain this one I gotta digress for a second. The thing about the way you look and the stuff you own is that nobody gives a fraction of a shit as much as you do. (also life lessons expressed via rompers.) If you want to buy a romper because you think that hot girl at the record store is judging you for not being FASHUN DARING enough, the romper will not satisfy you, friend! That girl is way too busy worrying if somebody else thinks her own bangs are outdated! And here's the thing: if she does think you are not fashun daring enough, or if she thinks you look dumb in your romper, it makes absolutely no difference. It is irrelevant. Only your opinion matters.
Isn't that crazy? This is another thing that cannot be taught because people say it all the fucking time and it means nothing. "Blah blah, just stop caring what other people think! It only affects you if you let it affect you!!!" I know that a year ago I would have been like OH REALLY, WHY DON'T YOU TELL THE SUN NOT TO RISE, YOU SMUG FUCKSTICK.
But one day, I swear to god, the giving-no-fucks bomb will explode in your heart like a paintball, and you will know what I mean, and oh GOD the freedom it will give you. The freedom and the relief and the patience for other humans and, oh, just everything. Your opinion is irrelevant to them, too. Do you think that lady's hair looks stupid? Do you find the shape of someone's body unsuited to your personal preferences? That's nice! It does not actually matter, at all. Your frowny judginess is just not a reality-shaper for other people the way it is for you. Which is awesome.
What were we talking about? Oh jesus right, rompers. Of course you don't need a romper. IT IS A FUCKING. ROMPER. Nobody over the age of four looks "good" in them, exactly. Yes, I have excused my purchase by being like "ooh but it's so breezy in hot weather!!" You know what else is breezy in hot weather, a dress, which is also easier to deal with when you need to pee.
But a romper may be representative of another tiny, idiotic happiness: the happiness of giving no fucks.
Ugh, I fucking love my romper. I have been openly mocked by strangers in this romper, and it did not affect my swagger in the least. I don't even give a fuck about how distasteful/juvenile it is to take SEXY TYRA PICTURES in my romper and post them on the internet. (Okay, I give a slight ashamed fuck about that. #ItsAProcess.) Every day I give fewer and fewer shits what other people think of me; by the time I am old, I expect to give no shits whatsoever. I will be entirely shitless. And my saggy ass will still be wearing this romper.
*nobody has ever actually asked me this? I figure it is only a matter of time though.
In conclusion,
Click to view
This song is the only truth you need ever know and also contains Amy Sedaris. The end. FUCKINNNN DOLLYYYYYY.
WELL that was a fun way to spend the morning. Projects for the rest of today: catching up on ancient comments, reaching 1000 words on my second help_japan story, and at some point maybe doing my job. Maybe. Probably.