Alexander McQueen is Making Thong Pants

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 I feel like I could never fully articulate the level of betrayal I feel from the fashion industry sometimes. Irregular Choice shoes are going to stop selling their iconic insane maximalist bullshit. Heatherette, the fashion company of my secretly-a-theater-kid dreams went under in 2009, right before I started to earn enough money to even dream of buying their clothes. I guess, I could probably look for some of that shit on Depop- but let's be honest...there's no way they were making inclusive sizes at that point in the 2000s.

Also, is anyone actually using Depop? I did download it, but much like Too Good To Go, I find the idea of actually using it a whole "thing". "Thing" being some artificial and undefinable barrier. When we reach "it's a whole thing" status, that is the exact point in which my desire to do or learn something hits up against my low capacity for risk and failure. But, I digress...

Alexander McQueen is another fashion house that I dreamt of when I was but a growing fashion girlie. It had the skulls and the glamour. It was the perfect mixture of tragedy and whimsy that calls to all wannabe artists who have intrusive thoughts. It opened the door to other architectural, avant garde, and queer fashion designers that would shape a lot of my "personal style" today. Sure, I buy a lot of Betsey Johnson in another way of fulfilling the needs of my 16 year old self, but I also like to get a lot of ridiculous shit from Selkie. And I am finally empowered to waste money in this way by having a full-time not-entry-level job and no children. How I should be thriving at this moment in my life...

Alas, because society is collapsing and going backwards- Alexander McQueen is making pants with a model's whole ass showing around a thong. Well, maybe not the whole ass, but is the illusion really enough to justify how poorly constructed this looks? This is what our leading creative minds in fashion are producing. I don't think it was even made with recycled materials! 

I have been doing a lot of thinking about myself lately, and I am reminded that there was a period of time, that I imagine all eccentric nonbinary queer people go through, where I wanted to do literally everything, but got good at like nothing. I am hoping to be transitioning into a time where I want to do absolutely everything, but transition into being able to do some things...then maybe some things well...then some things really really well...and then hopefully they will kill me before I do things poorly again. Anyway, in that earlier time where I had not yet let the full weight of my own future failures wash over me like a wave ripping me from shallow waters into an ocean of mental illness, I wanted to be a designer. I wanted to be in fashion and Devil Wears Prada was not a warning, it was a guiding light. I bought so many fashion magazines. I made little collages and mood boards with them the way I had seen it done in Elle Magazine. 

At the time, it felt that fashion was the gateway to all culture. If you were fashionable, you could be a musician, a comedian, an artist, a performer...you could be anything, because people could intuit through your choice in clothing what your overall brand was.

Maybe that's my problem these days. I have no more brand loyalty...and I don't think I am enough to be a brand myself. That feels pretty essential to getting to the next phase where I'm able to be the person who can do some things well. Maybe I can get back to the point of writing well...or communicating with people more often.

I went to meet with a community organizer that has been apparently doing some great work in Austin in the last 20 years and I want her to be my mommy even though she's only 3 years older than I am. But the real point is that I need a mentor who is willing to just drop a bunch of information on me so that I can at least feel like I'm on a good learning path. Then I went to the animal center, and I don't think they want to make a lot of their interactions there about race, but they definitely do. I'm just waiting for this to all merge into a regular routine where we have daily hijinks that just make us better friends and then Collin and I get married and we move to DC.

I can't imagine us ever moving. But I also would not have imagined that the house I loved would dishonor McQueen by putting this weird stuff out. I don't think the designers even know who they are designing for anymore. Not that I would, But maybe I could.

My therapist said that I should come up with things that could make me happy and how I feel in certain situations,...she wants me to go for a walk. I want to pop pills. I fear there's not much that truly makes me happy. I'm just doing things to keep things going.

Even the cats - are often not making me happy. They're usually being weird. So what does make me happy? How do I quantify this? Meh.

I'm sleepy so I'll talk more on that tomorrow. I want to fix a problem.

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