Latex Couture: Upscale yet Alternative
My parents were always up in my business. Always trying to shape and mold me into what they thought I should be. If they knew anything about psychology, they would have known that trying to push me to be like them would only make me want to do the opposite. From the age of about sixteen I was always looking for creative ways to be different, essentially rebel in my own unique way.
The arts had pulled at me, since it was so creative, free, and the exact opposite of the corporate, restrictive, and materialistic world that my parents so desperately wanted for me. I loved everything alternative - drawings, photographs, tattoo's, body modification, music, fashion, etc. So when I discovered latex clothing I was all over it. I had a closet full of bizarre clothing - spikey backpacks, patent leather boots, 6 inch heels, ballet shoes, patent vinyl, pvc, and as of recent - latex.
My parents had bought tickets for my brother and I to see the Philadelphia Orchestra at Carnegie Hall in New York. Normally I would find some sort of excuse to avoid any kind of family trip - but I played the violin in my schools orchestra and I was dying to see them. The night before the concert, I searched through my closet trying to find something that wasn't so over the top that it would be unacceptable, but something just far enough outside the ordinary that it would annoy my overly conservative parents.
I had a metallic blue cowl neck latex top, that was definitely alternative, but also cut in such a manner as to give it an elegant look. It was perfect for our night out at Carnegie Hall. My parents couldn't give me crap because it wasn't showing too much skin, and it was something that, were it not latex, would have been totally in line with what is appropriate to wear out.
When it came time to leave, the family assembled in the living room. My mom rolled her eyes, and I tried hard not to smile too much or laugh. I'd eventually get them to come around to seeing things my way, but it was going to be a long time before they gave up on their rigid ideals. One small battle in the larger war for my sense of self - and victory was all mine.
