Sunday, July 10, 2016

"I Ain't Mad At Cha"

   It's not uncommon for me to hear other individuals have found me intimidating upon first meeting me.  Initially the idea of this seemed preposterous to me.  “What in God’s name could people be scared of,” I thought to myself.  However looking at the above pictures I find myself closer to understanding.  I've come to the conclusion that sometimes I just look mean.
   In regards to the fashion industry one is often confronted with the word, “fierce.”  It's a term that has always annoyed me when used in this context.  I guess it's connotations seemed too haughty for my liking.  Writing this last sentence I can’t help but grimace at the irony of me rejecting a haughty attitude, considering my blog’s name is literally Little House Of Haute. But what evs, right?  Basically, what it comes down to is it’s always been my understanding that models are supposed to appear bitchy and elitist while simultaneously exuding beauty.  As an individual who's never been fond of her massive overbite this concept has always been good with me.  In other words, I’ll opt for the picture with a close mouthed smirk rather than a wide open smile any day. This is regardless of, "fierceness." 
   Mostly, I've always been comfortable with having what is often referred to as, “Resting Bitch Face.”  As I mentioned earlier it often serves as a intimidation tactic that can provide handy when a girl’s in a pinch.  However, there are other occasions when RBF can be rather unfortunate.  I would like to define the above photographs as an example of this.  On the day I took these photographs I was excited to finally have an opportunity to wear the shirt I have on.  It was a gift given to me by my boyfriend for Christmas and something he picked out for me entirely on his own. Upon opening it I was stunned by the idea that this particular top reminded him of me.  It just seemed so frilly…so friendly…so feminine, and while I don’t deny possessing these characteristics I never have dressed to accentuate them.  I was flattered that he thought such a, “pretty,” piece was inherently me and excited to see if I could make his notion a reality. 
   Looking at these pictures now I’m very pleased with the way I styled this shirt.   Not that it was a real challenge.  My solution to any wardrobe woe has always been to pair the item in question with bell bottoms.  However, I wish I could have looked happier in the photographs I took!  “Why do I always have to look so discontent,” I thought.  In my mind the individual wearing this shirt is supposed to look carefree.  They're meant to appear delicate, lighthearted, or at the very least nonthreatening.  So why do I look like I’m about to roundhouse kick someone in the face?
   Upon writing this post I did a little…and let me reiterate the word LITTLE…research on what causes RBF.   One of the websites I found stated that RBF is mostly caused by feelings of contempt.  When I looked up the term, “contempt,” in the dictionary the definition read, “the feeling that a person or a thing is beneath consideration, worthless, or deserving scorn.”  Suddenly, I was horrified!  Could I possibly be so narcissistic?  Deep down am I so into myself that these feelings of superiority have transformed into an ugly expression on my face?  On the other hand, could it possibly be that RBF doesn't exist for a person wearing black?  I reasoned that after throwing on a black blazer a bad case of RBF simply looks Emo.  I think the white phase of my wardrobe is close to it's least for a while.  Who knew Goth could look so much friendlier?

Shirt:  (Gift from Al)
Jeans:  Silver Jeans
Sandals:  Frye
Purse:  Kate Spade
Belt:  Thrifted
Bracelets:  Thrifted
Sunglasses:  Vintage

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