Wednesday, October 12, 2011

Insecurities.

Today I was thinking about how, despite how far I’ve come, I still have some insecurities. I have noticed that these result from uncertainties.

I love all things fashion… Looking at clothes and outfits, putting outfits together (oh how I love styling others), and drawing out what I see in my mind… And more.

On an average work day I wear average clothes. Sometimes I throw in a little sparkle or something fun but not typically. My job is not one that embraces my love of fashion. The things that I wear to work are very different from what I wear on my own time; the things I love to wear.

This weekend I stopped by one of my favorite shopping centers. This meant I needed to wear something cute and stylish.
Outfit: Denim shorties from AE, black studded and rhinestone belt from Express, floral tank with black lace trim from Delia’s, drapey/flowy shirt from a boutique, and black caged type wedges from Nine West. Cute. Stylish.
I’m about 5’7". Not super tall but I (think) I have longish legs. Add another 3 inches of height from the shoes plus the short shorts….Hello legs. That combo alone was enough to draw attention.

I felt fabulous going into BCBG; fit right in with the style. However… I had a moment when I felt like I was being stared at, in that yucky, being judged way. I thought the lady at the store was annoyed at having to help me. I immediately felt insecure and thought "oh no…Is this another one of those ‘why is she in here’ attitudes?" Thinking back, this was my insecurity, about really being able to shop in all of these stores I never could, taking over.

After a while I realized that she wasn’t. In fact I think she may have been a little intimidated by me. She was a little older than I and her outfit was nice but not "young" or all that fun (didn’t care but noticed this when realizing the above). I breezed through the door looking all tall (at least a good four inches taller than she) and confident.
In thinking about it, I was probably a bit like a force of nature blowing through the door.

After I started talking to this woman, she opened up. I think she was intimidated by me…Intimidated by ME? For real? Yes, Yes, I think so. For real. She was very chatty and nice, and was also very helpful. When she gave me a fitting room she motioned to it almost Vanna White style. She made this "here you are" type pose with her hands. Geez. I felt like I was being served or something lol. Weird. She checked up with me, and asked if everything was okay when I was finished. She (finally!) smiled. Yes, honey, you are getting a commission from this sale.

It’s "funny" how sometimes I let my insecurities get the best of me and feel like people might be judging me. There are times when it is obvious that they are. Other times when it’s obvious that they are not. There are times when I think they might be in slight awe - like this one girl who was staring at me (mostly my shoes; I think she wanted to tear them off my feet). I’m still not sure how to handle it when I’m just WRONG.

I don’t generally think of myself as an intimidating person. I have confidence and carry myself well, yes. If you get on my bad side there’s a bit of a soap opera villainess waiting inside, ready to be unleashed, and you may feel her wrath
but she doesn’t just pop out on her own. Buttons must be strongly pushed in order for her to come out.

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