How I almost fainted in the name of fashion
I know of someone who decided to wear sandals in a New York snowstorm because she was going to a Spring Summer show and had to wear the new collection. Fashion is one of those things that people make irrational decisions for at their own inconvenience. We’ll wear uncomfortable shoes because they make us taller and we’ll commit to jackets that are too warm for the weather because they’re part of the outfit. I don’t know why people sacrifice themselves for fashion or why the industry has been associated with so many anecdotes of this nature, whether it’s Carrie Bradshaw buying Vogue instead of food or Emily of The Devil Wears Prada only eating a cube of cheese when she’s about to faint to fit in her Valentino dress for Paris Fashion Week. Maybe it’s because our appearance is so important that people would do anything to achieve the look they think they should have. Or maybe fashion is such a powerful way of expression that communicating whatever our message is through it is more important than our comfort.
Until last week, when I involuntarily caused myself to do it, I’ve never been one to sacrifice myself for fashion and have always gone for the comfortable outfit option. It all started with a spontaneous charity shop trips, which resulted in a pair of boots (pictured above) that closely resemble the Saint Laurent Niki boots I can only dream of owning. At £5, it was a no-brainer: I had to buy and wear them to work the following week. I also had the perfect outfit planned: the boots just peeking from underneath a pair of cropped, straight-leg black jeans with my fave sleeveless knit from Blake and a vintage blazer featured in my latest post here. By the time I had got on the train to work though, it had become apparent that whilst the boots were dreamy standing, they were incredibly painful to walk in for more than 5 minutes. However, I was still committed to wearing them to work. That was until I started sweating from the pain and felt so faint that I had to ask someone to give me their seat on the train. 5 minutes into being sat down, the old man next to me nudged and handed me a napkin because I was sweating so much. It was no sexy image and I was nowhere near the fabulous patent boot wearing lady I wanted to be that day. Out of necessity however, I now had to commit to the boots for the day. Fortunately they broke in by the end of the day so I can now confidently wear them outside. So, if there’s one thing this incident taught me it’s that I would never put myself through that amount of pain for a piece of clothing again and I will always, always, carry a spare pair of trainers with me.
Do you guys have any stories about your sacrifices for fashion? I want to hear them all!