6. TOPS, BOTTOMS AND EVERYTHING IN BETWEEN

flowerI looked at the selection of clothes in my wardrobe the other day and I realized most of the stuff I had in there were dykish clothes.

I was slightly repulsed and annoyed at how stupid I was to choose the selection I had because it seemed to be hanging like a bunch of salted fish hung out to dry.

Now clothes shopping in Singapore is a miserable affair. Despite selling itself as one of Asia’s best shopping destinations, I find the variety of clothes here for women largely pathetic, kinda like my attempts at losing weight.

The fashion buyers here really don’t understand the needs of the sophisticated local lassie.

Hello! Not all of us are 16 years old who wanna walk around in frilly, lacy peasant tops and thigh-high shorts like Miley Cyrus. Neither do we  want to walk around in yet another of ‘Auntie May’s’ polo shirt or Grandma’s Lakshmi’s Serangoon coloured psychedelic blouses.

And it gets worse when you’re one of those regular Josettes who unfortunately have a budget for clothes. You either have to stick with the Zaras, Giordanos, Esprits or worse, the Hang Tens!

But thank god money hasn’t been much of an objective in recent years so I can safely say that I can afford to buy some decent clothes if I wanted to. And the place to do that in is Hong Kong!

Yes, it is in Hong Kong that you can go to storesl like H&M and swear you’ll come out buying like 10 items off their racks because they’ve got such a wide selection and they have clothes that are well-cut. But more so, they have stylish, punk-ass clothes for overgrown teens like me as well.

And that’s one of my pet peeves and why I tend to buy expensive clothes sometimes.

Having admitted to a slighty gorrilla-shaped body, I can’t just wear any type of outfit. I can only wear well-cut clothes that hang nicely off my boobs. And this doesn’t mean all these ultra-feminine type clothes. I’m sorry. It’s just that I have a man brain and a woman brain and the two don’t do cocktail drinks at a New York fashion event.

They have straddled their differences nicely somewhere in the realms of my subconscious and have diplomatically agreed that a touch of both worlds would be a nice compromise.

While the woman brain loves an accentuation on curves and a well-cut look, the man brain side screams for comfort and freedom to move.

And while this has worked out quite nicely for awhile now, lately, these two sides are at odds with each other again.

And it’s all due to one thing.

The ultra-feminization of clothes.

These last few years have been super duper annoying, to say the leas, when it comes to women’s wear.

Is it just me or are the clothes getting too frilly and lacey for my taste?

I mean there used to be some good department stores and boutique outlets that carried great basics but now they’re being replaced with items that have odd bows, puffy sleeves, and ruffles. Stuff , I think, a character from ‘Charlie and the Chocolate Factory’ would wear onset.

Geez!

It looks like ‘there be a lesson in all of this’, so here goes.

Oi, you fashion merchandisers, listen up!

Let me tell you something. We HATE those bows and cowbells sticking out of our clothes. We’re not puppies. We’re women. Capiche?

Plus, we’re not tramps, and have no desire to look or be one. We just want to feel well-presented with a sexy edge and we are not going to be getting it at some girly-girly, cutesy store downtown where we can’t figure out which part of the outfit goes where.

Which brings me to my next shopping tip: NEVER buy anything your brain can’t figure out.

What you wanna do is slowly put the item back where it belongs and look for the nearest exit. That’s easy. It’s normally the same way you came in. 

Picking an outfit should never be a Mensa admission test. It should use as little brain cells as possible.

Having said that – I think clothes shopping shouldn’t be a tedious affair. It should be enjoyable and relaxing, but at the rate women’s designs are going, I’m going to have to take out a notebook and a fashion textbook to figure things out.

The other tragic thing about women’s clothes these days. Too retro, peopel!

It looks like stuff I could dig up out of my mother’s jumbo closet and put together. A hippy skirt here, a head band there and maybe a matching Indian blouse that I could look good singing Kumbaya with.

Ugh!

The 70s are OVER! C’mon, can we just get back to reality, eh?

Until local fashion ‘experts’ get the fact that frillies’ are for fag hags and kids, to me, the fashion industry is officially dead and decomposing. It hasn’t come up with one interesting idea since the vest and straight-cut pant, so all you fashionistas should just attend its wake, grieve and move on.

But till then, I’m still cutting to the chase for a better selection from overseas and online sites.

 

1. WTF is this? Am I a dancing monkey in a circus? And gosh! Have the decency to throw some bottoms on this mannequin. Don’t leave her ‘va-jayjay’ exposed! Tsk! Tsk! Tsk!

 

2. A frilly blouse for spring. More like a frilly blouse for grandma! Ugh!

 

3. Erm, let’s see any woman get away with this ugly looking formless blouse at work. Ladies, this won’t flatter you unless you don’t wear a bra and even then your exposed boobs would probably take attention away from your $150 dollar top. Save your money…

4. Here’s a number you can steal from your mother’s closet. Again. Save….Your….Money.

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About thejellyfarm

In real life, I am a television writer and producer...er no...scratch...a television director....noo, scratch....a media loser.....wait, that doesn't sound quite insulting enough....... OK, ahem. In real life, I'm an idiot box expert with a penchant for the creative. In short, I'm a loser with no focus or direction in life. I just go where the creative flow takes me. Mostly it takes me to clogged up drains and stinky oceans but it's going.......going.....somewhere. And this blog is an expression of that mindblowing roadblock. Creative frustration is a great motivator and here is a result of that.

Posted on May 9, 2009, in Uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.

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