My Failed Relationship with Toe Socks

This post was originally published on my Medium profile on January 21st, 2016.


Since I was 12 I’ve been in love with toe socks. They’d become the symbol for the quirky, cute, intelligent girl who didn’t quite fit in but was still gorgeous according to conventional standards of beauty. They appeared in the glossy spreads of my teen magazines, desperately read in a grasping attempt to be relevant, to gain friends. Maybe if I did these things, people would like me….

It took me years to realize there was no magic formula between the covers of Seventeen or J-14 to make me into one of the cool girls; to make me attractive to boys or other girls or anyone, even myself. So much time sneaking around with my best friend, hiding her copy of Seventeen from her mom lest she get in trouble for reading something “too old” for her; reading aloud to each other in giggling whispers; blushing at the questions about sex submitted by readers just like us, we thought.

I don’t remember where I first saw pictures of toe socks on quirky, fascinating, manic pixie dream girls; I don’t recall what magazine it was, but I remember what the picture looked like — a top-down shot of a few girls sitting in a circle, knees up, feet on the ground, toes pointing to each other, all focus on the socks. Rainbow-striped knee-high toe socks.

Continue reading My Failed Relationship with Toe Socks

#FatshionFriday: June 28, 2014

#fatshionfriday June 28. Jacket: VIU bookstore. Top: Walmart. Skirt: India.

Jacket: VIU bookstore.
Top: Wal-mart.
Skirt: India.

I can’t be more specific on the skirt; mom got it for me on her trip to India years ago. It maaaaaay have been in Mumbai? Or Auroville. Somewhere around there.

(Shoes are house shoes again. Honestly that’s unlikely to change for these posts. I don’t usually wear other shoes around the house.)

-Kat

Fatshion Friday, June 20th 2014

So I’m doing a new thing on this blog (and on Instagram) where on Fridays I’m going to post a picture of what I’m wearing and call it Fatshion Friday. Why? Well, I’ve always felt intimidated by fatshion posts and have never wanted to do them before because I felt I would be found wanting. I’m not super trendy. I wear whatever I feel like wearing on any given day. A lot of my clothing is stained or ripped or just old; I’m not a person who can afford new pieces all that often and I’m not a person who cares if my clothing is ripped or stained. Is it still functional? Then I’m keeping it. The joke of “all it needs is a viable waistband!” that I hear men make about their underwear applies to my underwear as well — with the added “and enough fabric to conceivably stick a pad or panty liner to”. (This is something my hubs is constantly teasing me about, but he really doesn’t have a leg to stand on. We both have to go to specialty places — in his case, the bloody States, to find underwear that fits and is comfy. KEEP IT TILL IT DISINTEGRATES is the household motto.)

So I’m pretty sure I’d get chased out of fatshion circles for being an unkempt schlub.

But, whatever. This isn’t fatshion circles — this is my blog. Where I can do whatever the fuck I want. So I’m starting this Friday post thing so that other fat people out there who don’t feel fashionable enough for the same reasons I don’t can see that you don’t have to be super cute or trendy to participate in fatshion — if you’re comfortable and happy, that’s all that matters! SCHLUBS UNITE

Also this will make sure that I make an attempt to post here weekly.

(And, I mean, I’m sure there are fatshion circles that are way inclusive of my “fashion”? Maybe? But I haven’t really seen any, and to be honest I find that so many places that talk about fashion at all start to get caught in that trap of shaming people for what they wear or snarking about their lack of fashion sense, or whatever, and I just really dislike that. So instead of moving in fashion circles and having to avoid those sorts of things, I’m just going to post here and Instagram and do my own thing and if you want to shame what I wear in the comments you will either be blocked or publicly mocked. Or both.)

On with the fatshion!

#fatshionfriday overshirt: stolen from hubs. Undershirt: Costco camisole. Pants: thrifted. House shoes: Liquidation World.

Overshirt: stolen from Mr. Katje.
Undershirt: Costco camisole.
Pants: thrifted.
House shoes: Liquidation World.

Yep, house shoes, because at this point I do not plan on leaving the house today. I miss Liquidation World. They had awesome stuff. I’m really glad I bought like, 3 pairs of these house shoes, because I’m wearing them into the ground.

I’m wearing this because it’s comfy, and today is a bit chilly as we are still stuck in Junuary.

…also all my other pants are dirty and I didn’t feel like wearing a skirt today.

…and my skirts are dirty too.

Or just not hung up/put away so I didn’t feel like digging through the mountain of clothing in my office.

-Kat

Speaking of style….

This is just a short post to show off the thrift store finds I made this week.

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The green sweater? Fits perfectly, and was only four dollars. It’s just my style and I needed a new sweater.

The scarf, though, is the really amazing find. For one, the pattern is awesome (tartan-esque). For another? Handmade in Scotland. And it’s 100% Cashmere.

Yeah, you read that right. Cashmere.

I paid $1.25 for it.

You may all bow down to me now.

I AM THE THRIFT STORE QUEEN. LOOK UPON MY WORKS, YE MIGHTY, AND DESPAIR.

(Seriously, this is as good a find as the 1950s Singer sewing machine, in table, that I found for 8 dollars.)

Amoeba Kat Style

Describe your personal style, however you’d like to interpret that — your clothing style, your communication style, your hair style, your eating style, anything.

The Daily Post

I’m at a bit of a loss as to what to write about today, so I thought I’d take a stab at the Daily Prompt. Of course, now I’m sitting here thinking “Uhhhhhhhhh. What on earth IS my style?”

If I were to describe my fashion style it would be “has-been goth who can’t afford new clothing, avoids laundry, and doesn’t GAF if you think zir pyjamas and slippers are inappropriate for class”. I really just DGAF, or at least put out the front of not caring. Which is kind of funny, because I have a lot of depression and anxiety surrounding my dysphoria, how I present, and whether people will read how I’m presenting accurately.

I think my brain deals with this anxiety by making me not GAF/pretend that I don’t most of the time. But then there are days where I spend 2 hours changing clothing because nothing is right. Before I realized I was genderqueer I called those days my “fat days”, because I thought I was just hating myself for being fat. I eventually realized those are the days when I feel ugly and wrong because my body doesn’t fit the gender I am and want to present as, and I can’t seem to make my clothing work with it.

Those days it’s very difficult for me to leave the house, because I feel wrong and don’t want anyone to see me.

On days when I feel less dysphoria, however, I wear whatever. I mean, people are going to make comments — either behind my back to directly to my face — no matter what I wear, because I’m fat. People think they have the right to tell me just how wrong I am for existing unapologetically. Unless I wear what’s “acceptable” for fat people to wear, ie what works to hide all my adipose tissue, I am Doing It Wrong and deserve to be chastised. (If I’m wearing “acceptable” clothing, preferably in leopard print or covered in hideous sequins and embroidery with massive shoulder-pads because apparently there are no fat people with broad shoulders, I deserve to be “rewarded” with a “Wow, you look great, have you lost weight?” Pro-tip, folks: asking someone if they’ve lost weight is rude, not polite. My life is more than a number on a scale. You could ask me how my latest book is doing, instead, and show that you actually care about me as a person and not as the horrible bundle of fat cells you are being forced to share the planet with.)

So I suppose my bottom line fashion style is “I’m fat and genderqueer, I will wear whatever I want, it will probably be in need of mending, and you can fuck right off if you have an issue with how I dress.”

The other styles are a bit easier to describe. My hair style is “wash, condition, towel-dry, comb, tie back with scrunchy for entire day”. I very rarely do more than that. If going out, I might spend an hour curling some parts of my hair — but to do the entire thing takes far too long. I have very thick hair.

My communication style is “bad”. I mean, when speaking; I’m a lot better when writing. When speaking I always put my foot in my mouth or inadvertently insult people or say the wrong thing.

My eating style is…well, often would be the simplest way of putting it, but it’s super complicated because of my eating disorders. I’ve gone into those before; don’t need to go into them again. Besides the emotional and physical minefield that eating is for me, however, I love food, and I like to eat.

My interior decorating style is hippy/bohemian/hoarder pack-rat/fire hazard. I’m trying to pare down quite a bit to reduce a lot of the last two things, but I’ll always be pretty hippy/boho, which drives Ogre nuts.

Basically, if we were to boil down my overall style into a few words description, it would be “free spirit”. That’s the only term that’s ever come close to encompassing my weird, wacky self.

I am Amoeba Cat; wuh’eva, wuh’eva, I do what I want.