> CD #16: The public life of clothes
Dressing to be seen
I’ll let you in on a little secret: In the beforetimes, there were certain items of clothing I would put on whenever I wanted reassurance or a boost in self-esteem. They were foolproof in a way, garnering compliments every time I wore them in public, lighting up the reward centres of my brain with little bursts of dopamine.
Some of these items mainly appeal to women, like my maroon jumpsuit, which earns overwhelmingly positive reviews from fashionable ladies wherever I go. Men’s reactions to the jumpsuit have been mixed, including: “You remind me of a German street sweeper” and “What would you call that? A onesie?” But confusing a man is nearly as rewarding as getting a compliment from a woman, so win-win.
One pair of shoes has received universal praise from friends, coworkers and strangers of all ages, genders and walks of life—and they aren’t even shoes I picked out myself. They were hand-me-downs from a supremely stylish friend (thanks, Kat!) who had outgrown them. When she first showed me the suede t-strap flats, I wasn’t sure I’d be able to pull them off, but she assured me I could. Be honest: they are a little too cool for me, aren’t they?
I feel like a bit of a fraud every time someone says they like the shoes—after all, I wouldn’t have bought them myself—but I always take the compliment anyway because 1) I grew up starved for praise, 2) I had the good sense to accept the gift, and 3) style cred is valuable, even when it’s unearned. I often reply, though, a little too quickly, “Thanks, they were given to me by a friend.”
It occurred to me today that I’ve managed to go without those random, meaningless compliments for almost eleven months now, but I still miss them. I also miss admiring well-dressed people out in public (instead of actively trying to avoid them) and giving compliments. I have what Rachel Syme calls, in this New Yorker article, “a yearning for the spontaneous ways that clothing and public life can collide.”
I’m reminded of a recent post by Mandy Len Catron in her thoughtful and well-researched newsletter, The Loneliness Project, where she has written about the importance of casual interactions—or “weak ties”—to a person’s happiness:
It turns out that the people we don’t really know actually have a real impact on our day-to-day well-being. One study found that people who paused to have a genuine interaction with the barista left Starbucks feeling happier and more connected than those who rushed in and out. (As a former barista, I can add that a sincere “how’s it going?” goes a long way for service workers too.) Another found that commuters who struck up a conversation with the person sitting next to them on the train enjoyed their commute more than those who kept to themselves. And maybe this shouldn’t be surprising because when we talk to people we don’t know well, we’re likely to behave more cheerfully—cheering ourselves up in the process.
The benefits of casual social interactions hold true for both introverts and extroverts. And people tend to be happier and report a stronger sense of belonging on days when they have more weak tie interactions. Weak ties bring novelty into our lives, connect us to new people, and provide support as we age.
Reflecting on the value of weak ties also brings up these lines from one of my favourite poems, Famous, by Naomi Shihab Nye:
I want to be famous to shuffling men
who smile while crossing streets,
sticky children in grocery lines,
famous as the one who smiled back.
I want to be famous in the way a pulley is famous,
or a buttonhole, not because it did anything spectacular,
but because it never forgot what it could do.
To close, let me share with you this sweet note my daughter left in my closet a while back. Because of the way email newsletters work, I can’t see what you’re wearing right now, but I bet you’ve done a great job picking the right clothes to wear for this moment in history.
It’ll have to do until I can see you in person and compliment the heck out of your clothing choices. Of course, you already know what I’ll be wearing.
:) Teresa
What is happening even?? Closet Dispatch is a free, limited-run weekly newsletter by Teresa Wong.
I'm fascinated that interacting with strangers with a happy affect can actually make us happy, and your tag still adorns our fridge in a place of honour.