I used to have very strict rules about clothes. You wouldn’t have known it to look at me, but I did. I was never a high-fashion, brand name only sort of person, but I still had rules. Certain standards, if you will. In short, I was kind of a dick when it came to clothes. Not only on me, but on other people.

The Pants.

Leggings, for example, were never acceptable as pants. Not ever. And then along came jeggings, which were simply ludicrous! These were surely only suitable on people who wore ugg boots outside of their actual homes, am I right? I’d see some teenager in uggs at the shops and wonder how her parents could let her out like that. Or some woman in her thirties sporting leggings as pants and have a little cringe on her behalf.

Basically, I walked through life wearing the most ridiculous pants in existence- the superficial Judgy Pants.

Judging you.

I stand by the fact that we all judge other people. We do, whether we admit it or not, because it’s human nature. I had to live by this strict fashion code so that I could continue to judge other people by my (ridiculous and unfair) standards. It didn’t matter that those standards made no sense. I remember buying a pair of track suit pants to wear around the house. Nowhere else, because track suit pants were a no-no in my odd little fashion bible. So what did I do? I bought the most unflattering pair I could find. Baby pink, thick elastic waist, white stripes down the side. No way were those pants seeing the light of day! I knew, on some level, that my fashion rules were stupid so I had to make sticking to them easier, somehow.

Now that I think back on it, I’m actually annoying myself!

Why?

Why on earth did it matter if I wore tracksuit pants outside? Would the ground swallow me? In fact, as I type, I’m wearing tracksuit pants. Lovely, dark grey, soft trackies. Because it’s cold and they are comfortable, not that I need a reason. I’ve also embraced leggings and jeggings, because I decided to get over myself and wear what was comfortable. I like life from an elastic waistband and I’m okay with that!

Break the rules; it’s better for everyone.

I’m a lot kinder to myself in that regard. The flow on effect being that it’s made me less judgy and superficial when it comes to other people. There are more than enough jerky, shallow and cruel people in the world. My eye rolls and snide remarks aren’t helpful. Instead, they are a way that we buy in to a culture that places unrealistic demands on us from a young age. The same culture that fosters eating disorders and body shaming. If you opt out of that for yourself, it becomes pretty easy to opt out of it in how you view others, as well.

Stick with your girl gang.

We live in a world that sets women against other women from a young age. We’re schooled to criticise and judge each other. Who can remember claiming that they preferred to be friends with guys because girls were too bitchy, too dramatic, too something? I know I can. We actively sought approval by distancing ourselves from each other.
Criticising clothing choices is just another example of the ways we are socialised to see each other as adversaries. I believe it was Madeliene Albright who said that there was a special place in hell for women who didn’t support other women. It’s probably an over simplification, but this is what I’m getting at.

In short…

WHATEVER I FUCKING WANT.

Wear the trackies or the tights. Wear what is comfortable or what makes you feel good. Even if it’s Crocs. When it comes to fashion, fuck the rules. And don’t worry about what anyone else is wearing, unless is super cute and you want to know where they got it. We have enough to contend with in life without worrying over made up fashion rules and judging each other’s pants.

Gifs via Giphy, header image via Pixabay.

#IBOT @ Capturing Life.