Unsocial Butterfly

It is worth mentioning my high school fashion sensibilities before I get too far afield. They remain a central component of my overall wardrobe and continue to impact my present needs for personal expression.

Several things have changed since then. For one thing, I was entirely socially disinterested at the time that I first began making my own wardrobe decisions. I have since been diagnosed with Aspergers syndrome, though looking back at my adolescence and even my more recent adulthood I see more signs of Schizoid personality than of true classical Aspergers (both of which are problematically primarily diagnosed in boys and men, making women like me part of the most subaltern psychosocial category imaginable). Social complications aside, the impact this had on my fashion sense was fairly straightforward.

I did not dress for others. I dressed for myself. What that meant, primarily, was clothing that felt comfortable and was every bit as pleasant to the touch as to the eye. My solution was a faux exotic chic particular to the Seattle area, comprised of beautiful unstructured garments in richly colored light-weight rayon batiks, silk brocades, and the occasional winter-time velvet. The cuts were elegant but simple, and if most of the articles in my closet were handwash only, at least there was nothing lined up for the dry-cleaners.

The impracticality of such a wardrobe for my current purposes is probably apparent. Not only are the vivid colors inappropriate for most commonplace work environments, but yards upon yards of unchecked billowing cloth can lead to a sense of drowning in my own clothing. Both these (but especially the latter) can and will be ammended by the silhouette system I am putting into place. But in the meantime, an ode for the eyes to the style decisions that have brought me thus far.

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