Week 10: The World is My Runway

5 Mar 17 → ∞

I don’t really pay much attention to the clothes I wear. My closet consists mostly of plain black t-shirts, two pairs of jeans, and about a thousand pairs of the same shorts in different colors. This is the case for two reasons: first, given my size, I don’t have a lot of clothing options to begin with. If your jeans size is 40 inches across the waist, and you wear them with size XXL clothes, and live in the Philippines, the only place you get decent clothes, that sort of fit you, at a student-friendly budget is Old Navy, and they’re not exactly the most fashion-forward. We don’t even Old Navy in my city; I have to drive two hours and pay around two thousand Pesos on gas, toll fees, and parking to visit the nearest one. Second, my mom is my biggest critic.1 There’s a caveat to living with your parents, especially with mine. They’re the kind of people who, no matter how polished you may be, will scrutinize the smallest thing to make sure you’re perfect. It’s a bit difficult to be more experimental about clothing when you’re around that energy.

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