WHAT WE WEAR, WHAT WEARS US
OOTD
In worn-out clothes, I sometimes hope to pass unnoticed. In a well-cut suit, I feel my shoulders straighten before I have even stepped outside. The body underneath hasn't changed, yet each outfit seems to give me a different place in the world. In the company of others, fabric becomes a language of belonging and rank. On a quick trip outside to take out the trash, my worn clothes seem to change the way I move. I have done nothing wrong, yet my body makes itself smaller, as though it already knows where it belongs. A suit seems to arrive with a certain respect already sewn into it. How much belongs to me, and how much to the fabric and its cut? Clothing changes more than the impression I make on others. It can alter the way I inhabit my own body.