Labels of Love

I was a lucky participant on one of those weekends where you feel like doing nothing but eventually ended up fulfilling some family obligation by attending someone’s wedding. Lucky because I actually made it out of the house considering the stupid not feeling card that I was holding over the week, there will be more of that later I promise you.

Anyway, I only made it for the tea ceremony and upon going into the house I felt as though half of Europe loyalty was there, the usual Vuitton, Burberry, Gucci and Fendi graced the occasion on the arms of these women whom I suspect couldn’t half pronounce the names of the bag that they are carrying let alone know the story and craftsmanship behind them. I couldn’t swing my arm without hitting at least two woman with Vuitton’s Speedy and another few with monogram bags.

Usually, it would be quite a spectacle and jolly good time for me to be in the rooms of designer babies that I can feast my eyes upon instead of looking bored and uninspired. However in this instance, I was rather put off by the sheer numbers of labels walking around and instead of making these women look better or supposed to be a cut above the rest, it made them looked cheap. They made these wonderful bags look cheap. Believe me, it’s very hard to make a Fendi look dead but somehow they’ve managed.

It’s not that I am suspecting those bags were fake, I think it’s far from it. These women could out-afford me in terms of bags but I think it’s just the way it was put together, you know they are not well how do you say it delicately, not very refined people and somehow add that up together, you have a combination of rather garish ensemble. I am not saying that just because you don’t have a college education you shouldn’t be carrying a fabulous bag, I mean fashion is all about accessibility and if it makes a woman feel good about themselves, then good for them.

But it’s just a bit of a turn off and as uncomfortable as it is, I was suddenly struck by the thought that me with my bag strutting, could I have came off looking just like them to others? Was I just as tasteless and kitsch? I mean on the outside, before I open my mouth, as yellow as I am, I am no different from them. I mean I don’t have hair of multiple pantone (one that usually leans more towards yellow) but still, will I came off looking just like them? How about this rather fearful creature that I saw hanging out at the smoking area at Ikea? I mean his shorts were just as short as mine, same small tee, white shoes (but I have more fabulous ones, naturally…and better skin) and hooked to his arm is the Neverful bag. I mean I could have been staring at my own self.

I really don’t know. I think it’s a very fine line between looking fabulous and just plain looking rich. Rich doesn’t necessarily make you look fabulous (even though it helps) so where do I stand then? If I ask my friends, they would probably fiercely say that I am fabulous so that’s hardly honest feedback. But a little bird managed to spill some beans over some comments by some cats about me head to toe with labels hardly made me look classy. I mean one gotta take such comments with a pinch of salt because at the end of the day, you can’t make everyone happy esp those who are miserable all their life. I guess somehow I just have to stay true to the person that I am, I am not about telling the world that I have this or that bag but rather I love fashion and would do the craziest things for them. If it comes of looking tacky then I would just have to live with it.

It’s better to be known as tacky but with a nice heart than looking unremarkable and nasty. At least I never really dissed anyone on the way they dress or be mean about it.

Comments

William said…
If it makes you looks nice, it's nice lo. I definitely won't recognize the labels. :P
savante said…
As long as you're happy with what you're wearing, the rest can go f-off, darling.

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