As much as I adore fashion, I have stopped going shopping for clothes, and it feels pretty damn good to not feel the need to visit a mall for myself ever again.

I’m not sure what exactly made me remove “shopping” out of my life. I think one of them had to do with going to the H&M store on a regular day that ended up being retardedly packed. The lines for both the fitting room and cash register looked so painfully long, I couldn’t grasped the idea of why these people here were willing to sacrifice more than an hour of their time to buy a pair of pants or something. You have a closet full of clothes. Go home. Wear those clothes in your closet!

Speaking of closets, another reason is because I noticed I wasn’t wearing uh, 50% of the clothes that I already have. This is just stupid. Surely if a homeless person would ever hear me whine “I don’t have anything to wear!” when my closet is overflowing with all sorts of things to wear, they’d smack me upside my head–a well deserved smack that is. So now, I’ve been trying to give most of the clothes I rarely wear, a chance. And I’m liking it so far. It’s like getting new clothes all over again.

And the last reason is because fashion is constantly changing and evolving. I’m freagin’ sick of trying to catch up with the latest fashion trends. I just don’t care what’s hot anymore. It almost feels like buying the latest Photoshop CS software only to find out that they’re releasing a newer version of it the next week. Sorry but I can’t catch up if ‘yall keep on making new shit every day! I’m just going to ignore the world while I enjoy what I have, it may be a tad bit outdated, but at least I can finally relax.

I believe I’ve stopped going shopping for clothes for three years so far but have only shopped for myself only TWICE out of those three years. And of course, there are a few exceptions to my not-ever-shopping-rule:

1. If I plan to attend someone’s wedding, I will probably shop for a new dress if I feel like the dresses I already have are inadequat due to cultural norms or w/e (ie: When I knew I was going to a wedding in France, I made sure to buy a particular dress that didn’t scream “silly American”).
2. If it’s somebody’s birthday and I have to get a gift for them.
3. If it’s a cute purse. LOLZ.

Well, I guess that’s it. That, and perhaps visit the Goodwill once a year or something. But those three things I’ve mentioned have a purpose to them. I will go to a mall and shop if I have a purpose to buy a specific item, but to browse? I vow to never browse again.

Thank you guys, for all the nice and helpful comments from the last entry I wrote. It made me feel so much better, a little bit tougher and I’m just pretty much over the situation. So thank you for that!

I decided to take a breather from the polymer clay madness and moved on to making my Lady Deathstrike costume (one of the comicbook versions) for this year’s San Diego Comic-Con. Seeing as how I only have a little over two months to finish this, I don’t even know if I can finish the costume on time. Right now, I’m pretty calm but in another month I’ll probably be in HOLY-SHIT-WE-GOTTA-GET-THIS-DONE MODE.

I’ve accidently burnt and cut myself several times from making a small portion of Deathstrike’s armor, and couldn’t help but think, WOW! Blood and burnt marks have been shed, it’s like I’m making REAL, badass armor…or I’m just really accident-prone. I love trying to create fake armor, but what I really want to learn is how to sew.

Burnt marks have been shed!

Sewing intimidates the hell out of me. When I decided to start cosplay a few years back, I took a costume class at a community college but the learning process was so tedious and complicated I decided to drop the class. The teacher I had was kind of old so she taught in extremely boring and old-fashion ways. I’ve always thought she looked like a fake old person–you know what I mean? It’s like when you watch a tv show, and you can tell a young actor is playing an elderly person because the special effects makeup is so bad. So that’s what she is. It’s almost like having a Mrs. Doubtfire for your teacher.

The class was made up of girls (big surprise), a really gossipy shit-talking group of girls and I couldn’t stand it. One of the girls I interacted with was reeeally different though. It was because of her I learned what “furry fandom” was. She goes to “furry” conventions to dress up as an anthropomorphic character and meets up and socializes with other people dressed in animalistic costumes. She showed me a few pictures of her costumes and the conventions she attended for them, and to me, it looks like a social gathering for high school mascots from all over the states. It was kind of fascinating just because I found it to be so peculiar.

Oh, and the sewing machine itself, I’m better off piloting an airplane than taking pieces of fabric and using a machine to attach them together. I know eventually I’ll have to man-up and face this terrifying contraption we call a sewing machine *shivers*.

Yes, I know, I’ve mentioned that I am stressed out for the last 3-4 entries, and today’s situation at work did not help at all. I work at a small optometry place and here’s the conversation that went down between me and a grown man, which went pretty sour rather quickly:

Me: I just need you to write your name and then sign here please.

Man: I don’t need to, I’ve been here before.

Me: Yes, but this is a new exam, I just need you to sign in.

Man: What is a new exam–do I have to write my address down?

Me: Oh, that? You don’t have to worry bout it.

Man: What is a new exam?

Me: (explains)

Man: Look, when I ask you a question, you better answer it (he points his finger at me).

Me: I–

Man: Don’t fucking tell me “not to worry about  it” when I ask you a fucking question. (He leans closer to my face) When I ask you a question, I expect a fucking answer…

Woo, ok. If you guys can’t tell, I meant to tell him that he doesn’t have to worry about…writing his address down! Afterwards, I said something about how it was just miscommunication, my voice was trembling so terribly I didn’t know what exactly came out of my mouth, I was just trying to hold back my tears. I left my desk and let the doctor take care of him.

I cried a bit in the break room. I’m just not use to a man go off on me for something so small, and I absolutely cannot understand why some people’s way of dealing with issues are so pathetic and primitive. Why do some people make assumptions right off the bat and then decide to act like the world’s biggest asshole to you? How about you keep your cool, ask questions first, and once you get a clear confirmation of the cause-and-effect (I sound like an elementary school teacher!), use that as your reason whether to stir up shit or not. COMMUNI-F*CKING-CATION, people! Use it–it’s really great!