Day 50-whatever in quarantine and I wonder what's the point of having more than one outfit besides pajamas (PJs count as an outfit, right?). I've been wearing the same thing every day: black sweatpants and a blue flannel button down. Sometimes my quarantine outfit doesn't smell very fresh because of whatever I cooked the night before. I have no shame.
If I don't feel like getting dressed I will stay in my favorite pajamas, pictured above. It's coke bottle glasses most days. My make-up brushes have been neglected for weeks. Lipstick seems like an irrelevant luxury (why bother when you'll be covering up with a mask?). The hair? I'm letting it grow like a mermaid's and letting the white hairs have their way.
It begs the question: is fashion even relevant right now?
The pandemic is putting a lot of things into perspective. Before coronavirus my lens was wide angle: I took the world in, curious and full of hope, always anticipating an adventure. Now that lens is in sharp focus: survival. When all of humanity is in lockdown, there's little bandwidth for designer dresses, $100 moisturizer or getting your nails done. These things seem trivial, even frivolous.
These days, there is liberation in letting go of my past grooming behavior. But I do miss dressing up. I miss swiping Nars Schiap on my lips. I miss wearing heels and clutching a cute purse. I look at pre-pandemic photos and think, "Wow, that was the old me."
What's the point of a fashion magazine? (NYT)
