When Specialists Face 'Problems|Issues' With Why Fantasy Outfits Matter In Adult Content, This is|That Is What They Do.
Why You Should Shop For Your Fantasy Self
At least sometimes.
When was the last time you bought a garment without understanding why?
For me, it was in May, in Spokane. My friend called my name from across the store to get my attention. As I always do in well-curated vintage stores, I entered a state of ecstatic contemplation, combing through the racks of 501s with enthusiasm that bordered on indecency. It was raining so we took shelter in a vintage shop.
That’s when I saw The Jacket.
A black suede western style jacket stood on a mannequin that I had somehow missed. It had shoulders embroidered with opalescent gray roses. In perfect condition. The placket and yoke both had a ribbon-slot detail, with pewter rosette snap buttons. Fringe lined the sleeves.
I was so excited that I ran across the store and then couldn’t slow down in time, so I knocked the mannequin over1. I tried it on, and it fit perfectly. I unsnapped the buttons with the urgency of a lover.
So, even though it was $150, I bought it. It brought me intense joy. After all, it was everything I’ve ever wanted a jacket to be: beautiful, interesting, luxurious, feminine.
There’s a problem: I’ve only worn it once.
This is partially because Washington summer is warm enough that I haven’t needed it. But it got me thinking about the way we respond to our fantasies by buying things.
This was an example of buying clothing for my Fantasy Self-a phenomenon that’s been covered by many minimalist style bloggers in the last decade. YouTube in particular is full of this stuff and the algorithm has been showing it to me for years and years. I’m sure you’ve seen it. Hannah Louise Poston’s explainer is a great place to start.
Why You Should Shop For Your Fantasy Self
At least sometimes.
When was the last time you bought a garment without understanding why?
For me, it was in May, in Spokane. My friend called my name from across the store to get my attention. As I always do in well-curated vintage stores, I entered a state of ecstatic contemplation, combing through the racks of 501s with enthusiasm that bordered on indecency. It was raining so we took shelter in a vintage shop.
That’s when I saw The Jacket.
A black suede western style jacket stood on a mannequin that I had somehow missed. It had shoulders embroidered with opalescent gray roses. In perfect condition. The placket and yoke both had a ribbon-slot detail, with pewter rosette snap buttons. Fringe lined the sleeves.
I was so excited that I ran across the store and then couldn’t slow down in time, so I knocked the mannequin over1. I tried it on, and it fit perfectly. I unsnapped the buttons with the urgency of a lover.
So, even though it was $150, I bought it. It brought me intense joy. After all, it was everything I’ve ever wanted a jacket to be: beautiful, interesting, luxurious, feminine.
There’s a problem: I’ve only worn it once.
This is partially because Washington summer is warm enough that I haven’t needed it. But it got me thinking about the way we respond to our fantasies by buying things.
This was an example of buying clothing for my Fantasy Self-a phenomenon that’s been covered by many minimalist style bloggers in the last decade. YouTube in particular is full of this stuff and the algorithm has been showing it to me for years and years. I’m sure you’ve seen it. Hannah Louise Poston’s explainer is a great place to start.