Reliving Minimalism (or Laziness?)




One fine morning, everything was fresh. It was like one of those mornings you see in unrealistic shows whereby you wake up feeling like you're going to conquer the world successfully. The doves saccharinely chirped and the grass smelt fresher than it has ever been. The sun was bright - not glaring - and the weather was cool (I was actually still in my air conditioned bedroom, lol). I thought to myself: "This has got to be a great day!" I washed up whilst pretended that I was in X Factor. As I got myself cleaned and stood in front of my closet, I pondered: "Maybe I should wear my tartan shirt. Hmmm.. Great idea!" Yet, I stared intently for a close ten minutes. When it hit fifteen, that is when I found myself stuck in that particular abyss of "I have nothing to wear" statement. I thought I'd managed to surmount that synonymously and harmoniously made sentence. But instead, the only thing I could surmount was ironically, by adding two additional words. It was: "Oh god, I have nothing to wear."

But then I took a deep look at that orange tartan shirt, and then glanced at that polka dotted rouge pajamas trousers. They look like a perfect mix of a smartly concocted delicious Cosmopolitan. 'VoilĂ !', I exclaimed ingeniously. I buttoned up the shirt and slide the pants up your hips. There I was, standing in the outfit I've just creatively envisioned five minutes ago (ten, if you include stepping out of the shower). The mirror reflected the sartorially artistic part of me. But I was just not feeling it today. I felt more Vodka on the Rocks than Cosmo. I stripped out of them and reverted back to the minimalistic combo that is widely acceptable and immaculately perfected. The white t-shirt and denim jeans.

I know, I was actually stuck in this perennial state of chasm a couple of months ago (thought it was Superga instead of sandals) and even came clean to further deliberate and decide on a couple outfit ideas for the subsequent week. I guess it did happen for that week, and then it reverted back to the old outfit.

So what went wrong? Was it because of the irrefutable fact that I was extremely (and perpetually) lazy? Or was it simply because I was reliving minimalism? I couldn't admit defeat and let 'creativity' triumph over me - it would be a blatant lie - because I knew that a tartan shirt and a polka dotted pajama trousers was simply more than what any individual would deem as reprehensibly innovative. I looked around me, and I had an epiphany. For a few weeks, I have been scrolling through social media platforms (think Instagram) and the Explore page led me to further explore others with similar dress code. I couldn't help but wonder: Was conforming my denouement?

Can this be what people call 'dress down days'? In retrospect, I read an article from a particular local magazine which argued about dress down in flip flops slowly diffused into and subsequently found itself permanent residence in our local style. I thought that article was cleverly articulated, well composed, minus the fact that I was actually wearing strappy buckled sandals instead of Havaianas. In comparison to Instagram, actually most people are wearing what you call 'sliders' instead. Could our society have actually turn apathetically idle or did we deliberately slide on sliders and put on whites and jeans to compose what we now call chic?

I confess. I was actually involved in a shoot for my friend's project and I thought putting on something basic would be comfortable and easy. But honestly, isn't the 'basic chic' having too many occurrences till it becomes overly obnoxious? Yes or no?

H&M sunglasses, Feist Heist martyr t-shirt, Zara distressed jeans, Zara sandals, Monki cross body bag

Images by Mr Big