Savannah has bewildered me since living here. Quite possibly the most eye-opening, is the way I’ve realized that lots of people are copies of someone else. For example, I work with like 3 Davis Ruplingers. Maybe it’s the state of mind I’ve developed over my 18 years living on Hilton Head but certain people who were to unique and fascinating, are suddenly…not. The tattoo I wanted a year ago isn’t so cool anymore after seeing it on like, 2 hipster chicks a day. I know none of this really matters in the long run, but I think about it on a deeper level; it makes me want to stand out.
At work today, I didn’t have tattoos, I wasn’t as skinny, and my sunglasses weren’t as big as some of the bitches walking in, but at least I dressed myself this morning. Karen O or some editor in Nylon didn’t tell me what to wear. And it’s so ironic too, because this place where everyone’s artistic and everyone’s “different,” it’s almost like they looked at someone and said “I want to be that”. Like when “emo” happened. Their whole scene was based on being an individual, but they really just looked like the person standing next to them. You could make action figures out of them.
I guess where I’m going with all this is, I’d rather not fit into the buttoned, high-waisted skirt from Civvies that is sooo cute if it means that no one even looks at me on the way to work.