Often when I sit up late at night drinking coffee and reading a book I’ve decked myself in the comfiest of gears: Clean socks, a thick sweater, and my personal favorite, a Lava-Lava-esque skirt.
My reading often finds itself to venture further and further in the night prompting me to sleep in what I’m wearing right then and there. Now my normal routine for getting dressed in the morning revolves around me grabbing whatever is on my floor that smells the least and to then leave immediately.
Then something actually came across my mind on a specific morning as I climbed down the ladder of my top-bunk bed, I realized I was still wearing my skirt.
On any other day I would immediately remove the skirt and grab the closet pair of pants, shirt, and whatever accessories I felt like for the day but I stopped and thought to myself…
…”What if I wear my skirt outside?”
All of a sudden I get stumped, I want to leave my room as my bodies biological signals are screaming out, “FEED ME!” and yet I’m stuck in my room contemplating all the arguments of my choice in wearing my skirt out in public.
This actually astounded me, because I know that I often like to believe I can portray the notion of punk culture such as, “Well mass culture doesn’t like it, so I’ll embrace it!” But as I sat at my desk pulling on the fabric of my skirt I kept creating notions in my head that I couldn’t do it. My thoughts revolving around the arguments that if I did wear the skirt then the public, my public–as my id would have me believe-would judge me harshly and the “Alpha-Male” position I made up in my head would be compromised.
This became a serious issue I had never realized the programming in my own skull was so hardwired that I couldn’t even wear a flimsy piece of fabric around my waist without feeling insecure.
Since when did I ever allow fabrics to dictate how I feel?…
…Then I slowly began to realize that it wasn’t the fabric that was intimidating… it was Outside that was intimidating. I felt the glares and stares from my peers inside my own head and it was traumatizing and I had never realized what power our society really had on me. Where recent media has me believe that I am allowed my freedom of expression at the expense that it follows the norm… or else.
If your familiar with the book Ishmael, written by Daniel Quinn , then you’ll recognize the notion of “How do you know your in a cage, if you can’t see the bars?” Through my relentless rationalization to escape wearing my skirt, I realized that I wasn’t as free as I thought as I was…
But I feel that since I was capable of recognizing the problem that I can someday actually wear my skirt outside without feeling so insecure, and I encourage others to take this challenge with me as well.