Street Walker

my beloved tights

my beloved doc martens

american apparel U-dress

Burn out tee

Shame is a person's worst asset, and I am indefinitely guilty. I try my hardest not to be shy or self conscious of the things I like, and to treat my body as an uninhibited canvas; it is easier said than done however. When I was a kid I got a lot of harsh criticism for the way I dressed; someone grab the world's smallest violin because there is a mini sob story ahead:

When I was in middle school I visited my family in Germany and experienced this rare but wonderful thing called acceptance. I could walk down the street looking like as much of a freak as I wanted, and still be able to carry on my merry way without being bothered for it; in fact, there was a large chance there were other odd fellows just like you wandering the street. I loved it! At that age I was desperately trying to find my cozy little niche in the world, express myself, and figure out who I was. I felt comfortable doing that in Germany. Subculture and alternative fashion was in a way, accepted. Germany and England in particular have been dealing with subculture weirdos since the 70's now, so it makes sense. For the most part, they've reached the conclusion that just because it is different, it is foreign, does not mean it is a threat.

Returning to America however, was a different story all together. Parents didn't trust their kids around me, teachers thought I was about to go all Columbine on their White bread asses, and peers just kinda stared on mystified at me. I would get so ashamed that I would only go outside if I REALLY had to, as to avoid any more stares or comments from strangers. Eventually I just forced myself to change, stopped wearing the things I liked, and tried my hardest to blend in. I wag my finger in disapproval at that memory!

7 years later, and I still feel uncomfortable donning all black, wearing my makeup too dark, or god forbid, wearing a pair of combat boots. AND I FUCKING LOVE COMBAT BOOTS.

My Doc martens have been sitting on my bookshelf as if on display for the past year. I am going to start making a conscious effort to wear those gorgeous little devils in public more often. I am no longer going to try and tip-toe around my own idea of aesthetics; if I want to walk out the house looking like a Lost Boy's extra, so be it. YA HEAR ME WORLD??

Alright, end of rant. I encourage everyone to wear the things they want, regardless of how obscure or "ugly". Take pride in it, shame should be the only sin. As much as I hate to mention the woman (serious love/hate relationship) I thank Lady Gaga for not giving a fuck. I want to see more Kermit the frog suits fro now on, ya hear?

First Tuesday - Made In Huddersfield (Punk Feature)
by Saklas