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While TV and film prefer to portray the neurotic female as adorable and quirky, I'm here to tell you from personal experience that neurosis is not actually all that fun. My own neurotic tendencies have always been about my struggle to achieve comfort—be it in messy rooms, during windy car rides or, perhaps most damningly, when dealing with clothes that don't fit just right.
When I was little, growing up in Russia was all about layers—my mom would dress me in underwear, wooly tights, an undershirt and a warm mini ski suit to play outside during winter. And guess what? It is not comfortable to have three thick layers standing between you and the bunched-up underwear you're wearing.
I carried an alarmingly high sensitivity to physical discomfort all the way into adulthood, which, being the fashion lover I am, often resulted in some painful compromises. Here are a few things I absolutely can't stand wearing, despite their chic factor:
An off-sleeve sweater: As sexy as it may look, a nonchalantly-sliding sweater drives me insane. The sultry factor quickly goes out the window when all I can concentrate on is straightening the sweater and rearranging my cleavage. The same goes for ponchos, God bless them. They just won't stay put.
Jeans tucked into booties or boots: Every time I see a woman in chic, tight jeans tucked into cool booties, my heart skips a beat. I tried, I really did—but the meeting point of socks, pants and boots kept distracting me, causing frequent attempts to smooth out the inevitable creases and irregularities. Again, not sexy.
Any sort of head gear: A turban, a pork pie hat, a headscarf—oh, how I crave to parade around in them, looking as fashion-forward as every other It girl. But alas, any mobile object on my head sends me into a tailspin of anxiety. Is it still there? Did it move? Adjusting and readjusting endlessly, I still attempt hats . . . but hate every moment of it. And yes, I also hate when people touch my hair.
A button-up and sweater combo: Back in my full-time office days, this was the coolest look anyone could wear. A crisp shirt under a snuggly sweater, the collar and lapels exposed. Adorable, right? Not for me—the only thing I can wear under a sweater is a sleeveless tank. Anything else causes deep distress as I try to arrange the layers into impossible perfect harmony.
Sure, there are plenty of other things I can wear—I live in dresses, skirts and cropped tops (tucking anything into pants is not going to happen), as well as ballet flats and oversized cardigans. Jewelry is fine, though I must take it off after a couple of hours—feeling it on my body tires me out. I can also manage shoelaces, though I check on them far too often.
It's not pity I'm trying to achieve here—but rather a sense of sisterhood. Wardrobe neuroses are not talked about as often as they should be.
Have your own fashion neuroses? Share below.
Images: Asos.com
