How to Run the Second Lap
Facing a landscape I haven't seen in twenty years
I want to talk about fashion. I'm in my late 40s now, and I've been choosing my own clothes for nearly 30 years. Right now, I'm seeing a "déjà vu trend" once again. It's the taste of the late 1990s and early 2000s, known as "Y2K." White T-shirts, denim, big silhouettes, glittery materials, and retro-futuristic characters. It's all a scene I saw 20 years ago.
Tamagotchis, cream sodas, firm puddings—it's easy to dismiss it all as nostalgia, but for people in their 20s today, it's a brand-new landscape, and it actually looks fresh. Trends aren't just reprints; they are updated as "Reiwa versions." But if you accept them as "I know this, I know this!" just like in the old days, you might get seriously hurt. That's the tricky part.
The Dilemma of the Second Lap
Can those of you in your 40s and 50s understand? You pick up a pair of Air Max sneakers out of nostalgia, thinking, "Oh, it's Air Max!" But if you pair them with sweatpants, you just look like a dad in loungewear.
If you lean into grunge with distressed denim or vintage clothes, your old longing for rock music comes back to life. But when combined with a face that has more wrinkles, it can also become an outfit that emphasizes frailty.
Even though trends are evolving in a spiral like a vortex, if you just copy them as they are, you're just going back one lap. The result is that you stay "the same as the old days." It's also boring to be so self-conscious that you can't choose anything at all. That is precisely why, for me lately, buying clothes has become terribly difficult.
The Temptation of Two Choices
Spending an hour agonizing in the store is a daily occurrence. Usually, I'm torn between two directions. One is a popular item that looks cool to everyone. It's functional, comfortable, and a staple piece that's guaranteed to be in heavy rotation. I can even see a future where people compliment me on it.
The other is a quirky item that might even be left unsold during a sale. It's one-of-a-kind, infused with the designer's philosophy, and has a strong message. It's expensive, and honestly, there's a risk that people might say they "don't want to walk next to me."
If you think normally, choosing the former is the right answer. But in my head, a voice echoes, "Choosing a piece that has the courage to stand out is also a form of courage." As a result, I end up taking a mysterious plunge and "deliberately buying the one I don't want." It's strange, isn't it?
The Labyrinth of Sizes
Even after deciding on the item, I then worry about the size. It's not just about whether it fits my body, but how the "style" I want to wear changes how I choose. Even if my height suggests an S, I sometimes choose an L or XL to wear it oversized. My closet is filled with everything from S to XL. Perhaps the only standard that doesn't waver is my shoe size. Is it character building, or mental training? Choosing clothes that are slightly different from my intentions is also part of being human. But at the root, there is that sense of déjà vu: "Styles that were once considered uncool and disappeared have returned, now considered cool again." I'm lost in values. It's precisely because it's the second lap that I can't decide.
I have no clothes to wear to go buy clothes
There used to be an ad with the copy, "I have no clothes to wear to go buy clothes." It was a copy for a Seibu Department Store bargain sale in 2009. Maybe the message was: if you're going to worry about it, just pick up some clothes casually.
As for me lately:
"I have no clothes to wear to go buy clothes."
"Even if I go to buy clothes, I don't have the courage to choose."
"I don't even have the courage to go outside wearing the clothes I bought."
It's that kind of vicious cycle. It takes courage to wear inconspicuous clothes. It takes courage to wear flashy clothes. In the end, clothes contain waste and contradictions, and are full of human messiness. That's exactly why I'm drawn to them.
No matter how many laps trends take, clothes are ultimately just decoration. As tools, they haven't evolved that much, and they just keep going around in circles. That's why I find it interesting, thinking, "It's just like human history."
Dreaming of the Third Lap
If I live a healthy life, I will eventually reach the third lap. At that time, I might be feeling conflicted in front of a white T-shirt again. Carrying a "Back to the Future" feeling, I am still wandering through the labyrinth of choosing clothes today.
Have you been challenging yourself with choosing clothes lately?