Beating A Dead Clothes Horse...

A colleague of mine observed that I lack a sense of fashion style.

Perhaps it is in part due to the fact that five days out of any given week, I am clad in the company issued polo shirt, one of the many pairs of khaki pants in my collection and a good hardy pair of hiking boots. My work outfit is my daily armour that tells the world, "here stands a competent, trustworthy editor of video and purveyor of treasured memories."

There is rarely an opportunity for self-expression in clothing choices so I find myself wearing khaki. A lot.

Not that I'm necessarily bothered by this. Truth be told, I haven't worn a pair of jeans since Clinton was in office. I've never been a fan of jeans, nor have I ever found them attractive looking on either myself or the rest of humanity in general, so I can't say that not being allowed to wear jeans has inconvenienced me in any way.

When I'm at home or on my days off, I'm frequently in either my pajama pants and t-shirt, shorts and shirt (t-shirt or decent looking shirt), swim suit and t-shirt or pants (khaki or coloured) and a nice shirt. Usually in my sandals/flip flops (is there no word(s) more foul and cheap-sounding than "sandals" and "flip flops" in the English language?) or a good pair of casual shoes, I rarely find a reason to "look hot" on my days/hours off.

I suppose my lack of "fashion sense" dates back to the parental units who frowned upon designers and expensive frippery. Their position is understandable because they had to raise four boys who would outgrow clothes faster than you could say "growth hormone."

The other parental notion is that while one should not appear in public as a complete slob, there was no sense in squandering a week's salary on one expensive shirt and a pair of slacks when you could purchase an entire weeklong wardrobe for about the same price. Designer labels were meaningless unless they were on deeeeeeeeeeeeep discount.

I can't say that this ever bothered me once I left the "coolness" obsessed teenage years and entered adulthood. I rarely go shopping for clothes, but when I do, I'm looking for good quality at rock bottom prices.

Not that I'm clueless to what is fashionable by any stretch. For a period of time, I dated a gal who worked at a couple of the more prestigious clothing stores. Unlike myself, she WAS quite the clothes horse, so I was treated to lectures regarding the proper seasons to wear white, why one should tuck in their shirt but untuck it just enough to not look geeky and what color hosiery goes perfect with that new skirt and shoes that she just bought herself.

Even though she was a total stuck up bitch most of the time, she did know indeed how to dress. There were a few rare occassions where I actually felt embarassed for not matching the level of her hotness on particular dates.

I still retained the knowledge passed to me by my former SO to this very day, though I rarely admit it. Or care, actually. If you look hot, I'll tell you. If I look hot, it's either a miracle or a special occasion.

Ladies, you have been properly warned.

I suppose I at least have the decency to be decently dressed when around others. There are some people in this world who have no problem answering the front door in their boxers and nothing else. I am not one of those.

Still, it's odd. I've been talking about and taking baby steps towards changing myself. Been feeling so goddamned lost over the past two years that I'm wondering if I could do with a change of style to help the process out a little.

A new, non-surferish hair cut perhaps?

A strict exercise (not that I shouldn't be doing that regardless) regimen to improve the physique?

Or perhaps a different colour of work pants at the very least. I suppose that's as good a place to start as any...