Never understood it. Never. I still have the same jeans that I had in high school (them fitting is not the point). My wardrobe has always been defined by utility, not fashion. On Sunday afternoons my favorite attire is a pair of six year old sweatpants and a funny t-shirt (Neeva once borrowed a t-shirt to wear when we were going to lunch that read “Stupidity Causes Cancer”..her mortified look when she realized it at the restaurant was priceless). My fanciest piece of clothing in my closet is probably my under armour thermals I used to use when running in the winter.
So I never understood this theory of fashion, the need for designer clothes and outfits. Never understood how clothes, purses, shoes, and the like go out of fashion for that matter. Never understood the need for beautiful purses, clutches and belts. I never really understood the need to go to the mall and shop for the perfect top for a dinner three weeks away that you can never wear again after that dinner. Or black dress #505 that can only be worn once to a friends birthday and can never be worn again with the same group, subgroup or subset of friends (basically never again).
But Neeva does, and so I would accompany her to the mall to get some dip and dots while she shopped for whatever it was she needed, whether a dress, a pair of shoes, a bracelet or whatever. I always told her everything she wore looked great, so after a while she stopped asking for my opinion and let me eat my ice cream in peace. And as time has marched on, I still don’t see the need for purses, clutches, watches, bracelets, pair #342 of designer pumps (guys: read shoes) and anything else deemed fashionable.
But what I do need is to see that smile that glows on her face when she finds that perfect accessory, the extra pep in her step, and the intoxicating happiness that encapsulates her when she does find the fashionistas dream. The energy she gets when she wears the perfect dress with the perfect shoes. I love that smile, that step, and most importantly the happiness. Because it’s worth every trip to the mall, every credit card heart attack and every square inch of closet space lost.
So Happy birthday baby, I hope you love your birthday gift and no you still cannot turn one of the bedrooms into a closet.