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I miss being the person with good taste
I’ve always considered myself someone with good taste. Not in a particularly pretentious way (at least I hope not), but I’ve always had an eye for things. Clothes, prints, colours, interiors, little details. I could usually tell when something looked good, but more importantly, I could tell why it looked good.
Here’s a silly example. Put two cheetah-print dresses in front of me and I’d almost always pick the more elegant one. The print would be better spaced, the colours more thoughtfully chosen, the fabric would fall better, or there’d just be something about the overall execution that made it look expensive. More often than not, the one I’d pick would turn out to be from a luxury brand.
It wasn’t necessarily about the price tag. I just noticed things. The neatness of a print, the proportions, the finishing. I could tell when someone had put thought into making something look good.
I was also usually the person wearing the quirkiest outfit in the room. Not necessarily the most expensive or extravagant, just something people remembered. Friends would sometimes wonder how we could all shop at the same malls and still end up looking so different. I was the person they’d drag along when they went shopping, or send pictures to on WhatsApp asking which outfit they should buy. Apparently, I was quite good at telling people what…
