They should make Fashion-a-holics Anonymous.
I used to be one-wishing to be a model in Vogue, start a trend, be up on the latest of everything. It took me years to realize it's just stuff. Bags and shoes and fabric-millions of dollars, for what?
OH my gosh it's ridiculous! I have to roll my eyes at the hours I spent poring over Allure and every beauty book the public library had. I knew Armani to Vera Wang and everyone inbetween, all the coolest vintage shops in Manhattan and the best dresses of 2005. I knew how to make a facial from bananas and avacados, and that putting egg yolks in your hair didn't actually do anything. I positively worshipped the hot pink tights I got at Nordstrom's and Lancome's free samples, the photographer on America's Next Top Model and Moschino perfume. But the best part about all this crap? It pretends it wants you to love you for you and embrace your faults. Cindy Crawford's Basic Face taught me about loving moles. Bobbi Brown taught me that wrinkles are beautiful. But do any of us really believe it? Obviously not, because we are still reading, splurging, nipping, tucking, and caring!
This is the stuff we live our life in. Clothes and all that. I'm sure grateful we are still wearing clothes-that the chubster on the bus next to me hasn't learned to love his faults enough to let them all hang out. It can be an art form, sure-I'm all for self-expression. But we have to recognize illusion for what it is!
So what can be done for all the fashion addicts out there? I think this realization only comes with time and the recognition of all the real beauty in the world. Thanks, Cindy-but you can keep your mole and millions of dollars, and I'll keep my $5 Wal Mart sweats.