I don’t know about you, but I have a lot of fun hanging out with myself. For one thing, I laugh at all of my own jokes. I also “get” all of my own jokes. If I feel like going to the park, then I also feel like going to the park, and whenever I want Mexican food for the fourth night in the row, I always agree.
When I come home from work late I never annoy myself by talking to myself. We agree to keep quiet and stare at a wall until one or both of us falls asleep. I share the same dreams as myself, the same career goals, the same anxieties, the same fears. And speaking of fears, I never judge — I would never, for example, tell myself that it is completely irrational to assume that I’m 5 seconds away from being murdered every time the door bell to my apartment rings despite the fact that Seamless just texted me, “Your order has arrived.”
I know that Carrie from that weird show no one has ever heard of had a whole theory about your friends being your soul mates, which is a fantastic quote for Pinterest-y things but still doesn’t come quite close to being your own BFF. Not in the corny sense. Not in the therapist sense. But in the sense of…“Oh my god you don’t want to shower tonight? ME EITHER!!!”
Now imagine if you married yourself. How…seamless…(badum-cha!) would that be?
Let’s take this one step further. You’re not doing work, Agatha, so don’t even pretend like this is wasting your time. Let’s say you were going to marry yourself (at any venue! With any cake! AND AN UNLIMITED BUDGET!): what would you wear?
If I had the budget of a queen who won the lottery, there is zero question in my mind that to marry myself, I’d wear couture. Chanel 2014 disco ball fringe-y arm inferno? Hell yes. I will dazzle my damn self. Anything with a superfluous cape? Yup. Thigh high crystalized go-go boots, a floral headpiece the size of a Buick, hip bustles, butt bustles, drama, volume — YELLOW?!
Yes. All of it. All. Of. It. Because why not.
Now what would you wear?
— Amelia Diamond
Runway & Backstage Images Courtesy of Vogue.com