Thoughts on Too Many Thoughts

It was like any other afternoon. Working from home, I was sitting comfy in my cheap plush office chair typing away. Staccato mechanical keyboard strokes punctuated the room amidst the soothing lofi beats playlist that dissipated from my speaker. As the music played, colourful lines of Java code danced across my desktop screen, racing from one side to the other and jumping with the abrupt assistance of autocomplete. It was the beginning of September and it was a bit cold. I had on an oversized faded black sweatshirt, which matched with my oversized trousers. A little more oversized and I would start looking like a dark Michelin man, but that was fine by me. I was cozy and worked the afternoon away.

While I definitely looked productive, I surely wasn’t. As I typed, I was on autopilot. My fingers moved across the keyboard and slid across the mousepad, but my mind was not present. Instead of being in the moment, I was thinking about fashion. What would it be like to start my own fashion label? What would I call it? What would the logo be? Above all else, what pieces would I produce? In the midst of code, I stumbled into an imaginary world of draping and layering, where textures and shades of black harmonized across the human canvas to invoke a visually appealing yet subtly provocative piece of art. One that was not only enjoyed aesthetically, but also endeared through utility, protecting the wearer from the foreign elements of wind and sleet. 

Ah… what outfit would I design?

Focusing only on the top, I would no doubt like my design to be aesthetic. But what aesthetic? Well, I always enjoyed themes of minimalism and modernism, with a touch of avant-garde: simple yet modern and subtly striking silhouettes brushed by simple shades of black. The base would be a simple washed black sweatshirt, similar to the one I was wearing, but oversized with drop shoulders in a particular way such that it doesn’t widen out when one stands up straight. The sweatshirt that draped a more vertically in its sleeves but was still short enough length wise to not any possible pants pockets holding phones and wallets. On the theme of layering, a long tank top was underneath the sweatshirt, such that the tank’s collar was hidden underneath that of the sweatshirt’s, which left the tank’s bottom to flow below the sweatshirt’s bottom hem in a checkered array pattern with whites lines encapsulating darker shades of black. To encourage flow in the piece, the bottom hem of the tank is split on the sides and the bottom hem of the sweatshirt remain unbounded.

And just like so, I took an introductory step into my fantasized world of fashion. I wondered what the stitching would need to be like to pull this off. Ideally I would want the sweatshirt to be one continuous cloth with no seams to encourage the theme of minimalistic flow (or flowing minimalism?). It blurs the lines between a sweatshirt and a poncho- something that dips very slightly into avant-garde. This fantastic fantasy contrasted my present existence as I typed away on my keyboard. 

I wondered: will I ever experience designing my own piece of clothing? It can’t be that straightforward right? I assume there will need to be a design process not dissimilar to the AutoCAD needed for the 3D design of mechanical parts used in the spindle that interweaves the cotton threads for fabric. There has to be some software for that right? And if there is not, I’m sure there’s some industry standard for clothing blueprints; I doubt designers just wake up and cut a piece of clothing into existence out of their imagination, unbounded by the constraints of geometry and material elasticity. After design, I will need to sew the pieces of garment together. Oh what a pain that will be! Or will it be a pain? Maybe I find meaning in the softness of fabric splitting under the sharpness of my blade, the pulling out of whole clothes from the womb of opaque dye, and the ultimate rebirth of meaningless pieces of fabric into something cohesive for people to love.

I wondered: will I ever build the confidence to pursue fashion, even if it is merely a hobby? It for sure is a can of worms more complex than just fantasizing “I want to make a drop shoulder sweatshirt.” How about other fantasies? Can I manifest other fantasies into real life? How much should I research preceding the pursuit of a fantasy? Surely I need at least some research to develop the confidence to pursue said fantasy right? But, do I even need confidence in the first place? What is stopping me from diving headfirst without further thought? There is surely no downside right? Most likely my exploration will consist of one small venture. But what if I find something cool that I can slide my leg into after feeling the sensation with just dipping my toe? In the very tail end of probabilities, what if I find something I am truly passionate in and my life alters right then and there for the better?

Perhaps the barrier to that is ironically the very thoughts that drive my writing.

I wondered: how many novel and meaningful experiences are out there for me, waiting for me to come and to experience them? They sit out of sight but not out of mind, silently pleading for me to grow the confidence to come. And as they waited diligently in timeless invisibility, they see me wilt under human biology until one day they can wait no longer.

They can wait no longer because I will no longer be able to come. And as so, they visit me in my deathbed. Indeed only I can have given them life, but due to my inaction on thoughts that are “just fantasizes”, they must now die with me forever.

Nothing in life is certain but the certainty that inaction leads to nothing~