I'm Finally Accepting That I Feel My Hottest In Jeans And A T-Shirt
I try so hard. I really do. I buy leather skirts, flow-y tops, and interesting A-line and bandage dresses that I always think I'm going to wear to the bar or on a date. I'll even go so far as to put them on my body and walk out the door in them.
But there's always one moment in the night when I'll go to the bathroom, stare at myself in the mirror and think, I should have worn jeans and a T-shirt.
Jeans with a T-shirt is the most boring outfit on the planet. I know this. But I don't do my hair. I don't wear makeup unless I have to. On more than one occasion, my mother has yelled at me to "put a little more blush on" when leaving the house.
When it comes to my beauty routine (not sure if you could even call it a routine, since it's literally just me making sure I look clean and as little like a zombie as possible), I am boring. Wearing jeans and a T-shirt fits my boring vibe.
And yet, it also makes me feel like a goddamn superstar. I feel like an off-duty model. Like Gigi Hadid if Gigi Hadid gained 20 pounds and was a brunette. My closet is filled with variations of T-shirts in a range of colors and styles -- gray, black, white, green, blue, V-neck, scoop neck, loose, tight, form-fitted, slightly cropped, long and ass-covering -- and they all make me feel fantastic when I wear them.
Regardless of the fact that I know I feel best in jeans and a T-shirt, however, I keep trying so hard to wear clothes that I know I won't feel as good in. I live in New York City now, so maybe it's because I feel like I should be taking fashion risks. It just doesn't feel right to wear jeans and a T-shirt while walking the streets of SoHo or eating in trendy downtown restaurants.
Or maybe it's because of the one time during my semester abroad in Spain, when I put on jeans and a gray T-shirt before a night out, and my roommate was like, "Come on, Alexia. That's not a going-out outfit." And then from that point forward, I mysteriously could never find that T-shirt again. Huh.
Perhaps it's because I really do admire women who take fashion risks, and I wish I could be more like them. My friend and co-worker Zara is a prime example of someone who can just throw on a pashmina or pale blue vintage cocktail dress or something and look and feel freaking fantastic. You wouldn't catch her dead in pants.
Me, on the other hand? The only time you'd ever see me in a pale blue vintage cocktail dress is if I were eight years old and my mother was forcing me to wear it to church for Easter Sunday. No offense to Zara, of course. She makes pale blue vintage look hot. I would make it look infantile.
I keep thinking that maybe if I buy enough high-waisted skirts and crop tops, I'll eventually just have to wear them. But this has yet to happen. Hardly-worn pieces of trendy clothing are collecting dust in various corners of my closet and reminding me of paychecks that I essentially flushed down the toilet.
I've stared at countless beautiful dresses and skirts and wondered if THIS was going to be the one to finally turn me into real girl. But it never is. I mean, I have a few dresses that I love and will happily wear, but it's rare that I leave my apartment in an outfit that isn't jeans and a T-shirt and feel good about myself.
I just can't escape my love of jeans and a T-shirt no matter how hard I try.
So it's time I accept once and for all that I feel my hottest in jeans and a T-shirt. The best part is that I can spice up the look with a chunky necklace or a leather jacket if I want to, or I could just not, and I'd still feel pretty great.
The ol' cotton-and-denim combo loves me even when that love is unrequited. I'm finally going to stop resisting and give in.