What We Have to Work With: A Timeline of My Personal Fashion (De)Evolution

Let me start this post by stating that I am NOT the most fashionable person in the world. I am not a complete mess, mind you, but I am certainly no chic diva!

I grew up a total Tomboy. My idea of a successful color palette was one that included olive drab and mud! My personal beauty regimen involved letting shower water hit my face sometimes. I was a total wreck. When I was little I did have an article of clothing that I loved - my mom had bought me a thin knit, ankle-length, burgundy sweater that tied around my waist. I adored that ratty old thing and was heartbroken when I had to give it up. Something about the length and color made me feel very elegant, almost a child's version of EGA (Elegant Gothic Aristocrat). That was my first clue, looking back, to my internal (and secret) desire for an elegance that my gangly boyish self viewed as beyond my grasp.

                                                                      an eight-year-old (or so) me, on vacation
                                                                                                     with my family in Athens, Greece:
                                                                                                         my bedhead was its own entity!

Fast forward a little bit, and at age fifteen, I still felt like Stacy London's worst nightmare. My wardrobe consisted of very boring and subdued clothing, almost entirely unadorned, in shades ranging from brown to black (by which I mean, not many of 'em!). Oh, there were some muted jewel tones thrown in (mostly reds), and olive drab was still a stock favorite, but it was mostly neutrals and blacks for me.
                                       

Fifteen-year-old me on vacation with family in Thailand:
still making very questionable fashion choices.

 

What I had developed however, was a very strong love of accessories! By this point I had gotten my (still fairly grubby) paws on a pretty large collection of scarves, hats, jackets, and basic jewelry. All of this was still pretty tame, but it was virtually unheard of to see me without at least 2-3 of these items piled on, even in the dead of summer!
 

pretty severe black leather jacket around age seventeen or so.
I actually like this picture, even if my hair looks like
I'm channeling Johnny Depp's Willy Wonka on a Monday

 

A lot of this lack of color and plain wear was due, as I mentioned in my introduction piece, to a general lack of knowledge regarding fashion trends and feeling intimidated by the fashion world and  femininity in general. I had allowed my fear of being judged by my peers to rob me of my desire to experiment with apparel. I had become complacent with my sense of style and was content to live on the outskirts of fashion ( :( poor, poor me. boohoo, so sad!). I compensated for my lack of fashion know-how by being completely unafraid of changing my hair color (even if the shape has stayed roughly the same), a lot. Pictured below - several incarnations of hair color over the years (probably not in correct chronological order).

 

...And that is definitely a short sampling.

 

Now that I'm in my twenties, I have certainly been a little more open to adding new colors to my wardrobe and actually wearing prints (le gasp!!), but I'm still not satisfied with my look. It has no real direction, or anything definite that I can point to and say 'This. This is what I am inspired by'. I feel as though I am a blank canvas, which is some ways, makes this easier. I don't feel like I have a lot of unlearning to do about clothing, and I'm pretty good at following rules.

So. Looking back at my fashion choices over the years I find in myself a few style traits that parallel the Lolita aesthetic.

 

1. A desire for elegance, and subdued jewel tones - I think Classic is the way to go for me, to be honest. I think I'm definitely more geared towards that substyle of Lolita. I believe I would also like to attempt Kuro (mostly) and Shiro (some) Lolita, but I don't see straight-up Gothic or Sweet working for me.

2. Modesty - I'm pretty much always covered up, sometimes overly so.

 

3. Strong love of accessories - bring on the extras, baby!

 

And lastly:
4. High comfort-level regarding unnatural hair color - I often dye my hair on a sudden whim, and I TOTALLY look forward to wearing a wig, especially because I haven't had long hair since I was about five!

 

 

Next Stop: Classic Lolita. Let's Do This Thing.

                                                          - Leda

'Postpartum Depression and Lolita Fashion' OR 'How I Tripped Over the Rabbit Hole'

Dear reader, let me first begin this blog with one definite statement: I am not a Lolita. "But Leda, if you are not a Lolita," you ask, "then why the heck is the title of your blog 'Lead Sugar Lolita?'"

...and that would be a very fair and important question to ask. So please allow me to add a clarification to my statement before answering that question; I am not a Lolita... yet.

so if I am NOT a Lolita and my blog is definitely Lolita-centric who the heck am I and what am I doing/playing at?

What I am is a new mother. Allow me to explain.

I am 21. I am a female, Caucasian lower-middle-class American citizen with three wonderful step-daughters, a exceptionally accepting husband, and a six-week-old baby daughter. I am a poet, visual artist, occasional musician, and avid video-game player. I'm a collector and a dabbler and a pretty good cook. I am a bisexual, polyamorous fetishist with my head screwed on wrong. I am many other things besides. 

But even with all these labels, I've recently started to feel that there is something lacking in my life. And what that was, I couldn't be sure. I had gotten my first real look at Lolita Fashion just a few weeks ago when I was trawling the internet for entertainment. Maybe it was the stress from dealing with the new baby, or internal pressures and a fear of aging. Maybe it was my long-term deep-seated insecurity regarding my personal appearance, or just a strong need for some change in my life. Maybe it was none of these things; maybe all. But whatever the reason, those first pictures of real Lolitas (i.e. not costume-wearing, cosplaying 'itas', but real Lolitas with skill, grace, and passion) hit me like a frilled freight train. I began to feel something stirring inside myself and I realized that what was missing was my sense of femininity.

For as long as I can remember, I have struggled with self-expression. I have allowed fear to creep into my life and settle there for years - fear of rejection, fear of pain, fear of ___, you name it. Looking at my first street-shots of Lolitas worldwide made me realize that I was afraid of being feminine. Those big poofy dresses, bows, and frills legitimately intimidated me. And then I asked myself "Why? How is it that you have allowed yourself to sink so far as to be afraid of a dress?". But there it was. I was afraid of the dress. And I wanted it. and I was compelled.

For weeks I have been scouring the internet for all things Lolita: watching YouTube videos, poring over blogs and forum posts, stalking the EGL comm sales, perusing how-to's and tutorials, and trying to approach it like a science. I have been trying to define that magical moment when a Coord is finally just right, when the outfit becomes its own entity, when the wearer becomes transformed. And that's when I realized my mistake. Lolita is not a science. Lolita is Alchemy. It is the ancient struggle to turn the ordinary, the mundane, into something perfect and otherworldly. It is, in a word, Human.

I thought to myself, then, "Could I be that? Could I go out in public wearing such a thing? Is it right for me to do so?" And my husband said to me "Yes." Despite having no personal investment or real interest in fashion, (and even after seeing the price tags) he has encouraged me to try. Because he saw that, underneath my fears, it made me happy. And that was enough.

So the questions are these: can a 21 year old mother of four be a Lolita? Can she do so successfully? Can she do so, if not cheaply, then frugally and efficiently? Can she finally tame and put to use the wild sewing machine that has menaced her for years? We're about to find out.

This is my journey of self-discovery. This is my period of growth. I need this, and I beg your indulgence. Whether I succeed in my goal of personal transformation or fail miserably, it will be here for the world to see. You, dear reader, will be privy to my innermost thoughts, my fears and dreams. You will be the audience to this most personal dark comedy as I attempt to answer these questions and the ever-unanswered 'what exactly is it that makes me happy?' At the risk of sounding like an angsty teen, I still don't know. So please, tread softly.

                                                                         - Leda