My friend Sheanna was expressing a need to acquire a few pieces for her wardrobe, but sighed in the same way Sisyphus maybe does when he has to push that god-damn rock up the hill again. Shopping can be a huge drag, I’ve touched on this subject before–it’s a molotov cocktail of factors: the pictures of tall, thin models wearing the exact clothes you are about to try on, the florescent lighting, and the mirrors, and the change room, my god the change room, might as well call them the “hate yourself” room. That inevitable moment in the cramped space, staring at yourself in the mirror, under the harsh lighting looking at all your imperfections, those charming cellulite dimples, stretch marks, an unsightly bruise, it’s suddenly all you see. And why is every time you go shopping, it also happens to be on the same day when you wear mismatched socks or a pair of underwear so big you could tuck it under your bra and make a make-shift one piece bathing suit? None of this applies to me of course, ’cause my body is fucking amazing. I actually leave the door open just in case someone wants to sneak a peek at perfection.
Because I understand the anxiety of shopping, I’m actually quite adept at dressing people. I offer my assistance, and a shopping date is made. Sheanna huffs that she wishes she could make her own clothes (she’s learning to sew as we speak). She expresses a desire for flowing, earthy garments that billowed all around, and would actually look quite good if you were anywhere near a wind machine.
“So…you want to dress like Stevie Nicks“?
Oh my goodness, though I was making a joke, we both paused, as if to consider how wonderful life would be if we could just dress like Stevie Nicks, everyday, all the time.
“We should start our own Stevie Nicks fashion line. With every outfit purchased, you’d get a free tambourine”
There would be a hat line for sure, and we’d call it “Stop Dragging My Hat Around”.
But really, we want clothes that go from day to night. These are clothes that you can snort copious amount of cocaine with your band in. You could be loving and leaving dudes like Don Henley or Lindsey Buckingham in these looks, and always feel comfortable and fabulous.
There’s nothing I don’t like about this idea. Sure, I might feel a little silly in the line up at the bank while wearing a giant, feathered top hat, my tambourine rattling whenever I shift weight on my feet. But at least I won’t feel bad in the change room. Oh yes, and at our boutique,the ‘Nicks Knacks’, the change rooms are giant spaces with plush furniture, fabulous music and soft lighting. But you won’t really need them, the items are so loose and flowing, that you can just try them on over your clothes. And there will be a wind machine. I’m looking forward to that.
Me neither Stevie, me neither.