First, there was the awesomeness of Kofi Busia’s regular-people-clothes. Then, there was Dharma Mittra and his socks. Now, we have “Public Figure” and yoga instructor, Sadie Nardini, and her hot new Rockabilly look that, while only a few steps from the old look, is looking good!
From the Facebook….
“CORE INSPIRATION: SWITCH IT UP!
I decided that my new look is going to be Pinup Yoga Rocker Chic. Got me some red lipstick and a little bangs roller and went to town. It feels like even more of me.”
Let me be honest. There are a number of “looks” I like to see the ladies strut in. And, while, admittedly, most are variations of Jersey Shore “chic,” and most involve hoop earrings of some sort, the Rockabilly look has always reigned nearly supreme.
So, obviously, I’m pro-Sadie on this one.
As an aside, I’m also into the “going camping” look, the “B-girl” look, the “Kofi Busia” look, the “chola” look, the “head wrap” look, the “yoga mom” look, the “I work in an office, but go to sex parties” look, the “geeky” look, and the “I just showed up at this party ’cause my friends dragged me” look. Basically, I’m into all the looks. And, what’s great about all the looks, is that none of them really have anything to do with that elusive something Sadie Nardini calls an “inner truth.” Because, if it did, going out at night would be a lot less interesting seeing as “inner truths” tend to not involve finding a bathroom to get stupid in (though, they really should). And yet, in regards to her new rolled bangs, Sadie states:
“I think that paying attention to one’s outer style is simply a representation of what’s going on on the inside. It’s a reflection of your inner truth put into the world.”
Personally, only in rare cases would I attribute a fashion sense or particular color palate to be an indication of a person’s inner truth. Using the fashion of someone as a gauge is not only dangerous and presumptive (basically what get’s mom’s in a tizzy [or worse] ’cause their kids dress in all-black), but also an underestimation of the extent to which civilized people are seriously sad and heart-broken inside regardless of the presence of a happy face. I mean, I don’t care if you bounce around in a pink too-too with fairy wings on your back all day. Put your ass in an hour of quality progressive therapy and I’ll put money on your coming in contact with some friendly demons just sitting around reading old magazines in your psychic attic.
Which is why I typically defer to RZA in “The 4th Champer” on the matter:
The year 2002 the battle filled with the Wu.
Six million devils just died from the Bubonic flu.
Or, the Ebola virus, under the reign of King Cyrus.
You can see the weakness of man right through his iris.
You see, it don’t matter what you dress the temple up in. If you don’t sweep out the cobwebs, that place is still gonna be filled with spiders. And, guess what? That’s ok. Get someone with artistic skills to draw up a few Brown Recluses, and throw ’em on a flag. Hoist that shiz high above the anarcho-gurdwara. Throw in a cool sword and some squiggly words, and I’m gonna be your first convert.
That said, I’m not even sure Sadie herself believes her outside look is really a “representation of what’s going on on the inside.” As she states:
“It makes me feel more put together to be more put together…and more confident to dress confidently.”
From this it sounds like the outside is actually having its naughty way with the inside, and not the other way round. Here, being more “put together” elicits a “feeling” that in turn contributes to a “sense” of confidence, all of which either change the nature of the inner truth, or are themselves further reflections of it. But, then you gotta wonder, is this “inner truth” subject to your feelings, or is it a manifestation of them? Is it something static and unwavering, or is it in constant flux, like the cosmos, always already present while simultaneously held in place by Love? If it’s that, can a new sleeve really capture it? I mean, are we still talking about sexy chest tattoos?
This is why I’m mostly against all that “Yoga is how you live your life” stuff, and instead go for the “Yoga helps me live my life” hoo-ha instead. Otherwise it gets too messy, and you end up trying to make your dumps yogic, your wine endorsements yogic, and your abs yogic. Ugh!
Listen. You wanna look like a sexy lil’ hot thing walking down Smith St.? Please, you have my endorsement. If it makes you feel like a frickin’ superstar, even better. You’ll definitely catch my eye, and no doubt the eye of every other sex-positive feminist Babarazzi within ten feet. Just don’t tell us that your skinny floods and creepers are somehow linked to your yoga practice.
Nothing kills the mood like yoga talk.