I've been thinking my dressing is me, emulating what I idolize, { women}. I have always put these mysterious creatures on a pedestal, although the height of that pedestal is diminishing as I age.
Is this to simplistic as to the "why" I dress?
I wonder less about the " why", than I used to, but I still wonder. Giving up on beating the " urge ", has made the " why" less important.
Is the other side of this coin " self loathing " ?
Ok, that will be enough rambling for now