by A school friend of mine once told me that she would not go to the mailbox in front of her house without wearing mascara, lipstick and foundation. My mother dried her hair to go shopping.
I recently seen more than a glamorous woman on Tiktok, who warns her followers not to go to the gym without wearing make -up and a sweet outfit if you have to interact with your swarm with your weight. Every time I see a girlfriend who has born recently, she apologizes so strongly for her dark circles and her old T-shirt that she would think that she would have committed a little Commonwealth offense. I heard from someone who offers a full company outfit, including high heels ,, Sit down to work at the kitchen table in your own home.
I despair. Where are our possibilities to look an absolute chaos?
The care standards are a personal thing. Mine has always been minimal enough to appeal to every member of my immediate family: unusual hair, naked face, no bra. I sometimes like to put it on, but my daily mood is more Adam Sandler who takes a walk.
Fortunately, I found a gap in the social expectation of Steodetthemannishess: Dogs Walking Fashion.
If I pour my pretty shih Tzu on my side, I can go out in the most rude ensembles and nobody seems to worry about it. I am invisible, I am untouchable, I am immune to the judgment of others because I am traveling with my dog.
Let me paint a picture. In the summer months I could get out in a few Fuchsia linen pants that my mother bought in Greece (who have a hole in the crotch), paired with a 2017 Britney Spears concert memorability of Britney Spears T-shirt and knee-high hook-pressure compression socks, which in the dark, dark birch My-Fund-My-Fust, which were worn so often that they wear so many my-my-my-my-my-my-my fusts. Another day, it could be striped boxer shorts, a tank top that hangs for love and no shoes. It is my right as a Australian to feel the warmth of the sidewalk on my pedestrian.
When it is cold, I slip into something like this: pants that are technically in the pajamas, hidden ankle bite boots in purple, an old jumper of my father, which long with a raincoat with thighs button. Or with a fleece lined trousers, a jumper with an otter, socks and tanga. .
It is grasp of what is nearby and what’s convenient situation. The less thought, the better. And it is a precious opportunity for me to take the clothes that I am not yet willing to withdraw in the outside world. Stained? No problem. Threadbare? Get in. When I’m with my dog, everything works.
Nobody flashes an eye. Nobody increases his phone threatening to film me for an Instagram rounds with the worst clothing. I’m free. I am a chaos. I’m just a girl who goes with her dog.
And I’m not alone. I see you, my chaotically dressed dog walking brothers: in Pyjama and Ugg boots, in animal OneSies, in long socks and sandals, short shorts, decaying T-shirts, charity jumpers. Baseball caps over unwashed hair. Silent pfot prints on their track pants from the last wet walk. We are together and hey, we may not be ready, but we have our dogs.
