When I was younger, I had satoriaphobia, a word I just made up that means ‘Fear of wearing the same outfit as someone else’. It haunted me. Back when I was a kid, we didn’t have Westfields (or computers) in which to shop for clothes. We had a couple of local stores and we all shopped at the same places. For me, it was a cute little boutique called The Individual Kid, and the kidswear department of Grace Bros* (David Jones being far too expensive back then).
My criteria for buying clothes as a child was simple. I wanted to look as trendy as Michelle, the trendiest girl in my year, but not exactly the same as Michelle, because then I’d look like I’d copied her, and what I was really aiming for was a homage.
Well, this was not easy. For a start, I had no idea what Michelle was going to wear until she wore it, which made homages kind of tricky. For another thing, I had no sense of style or taste, and had to rely on my mother to choose my clothes for me. Now, my mother was great at choosing clothes for her 35 year old self, but not so great when it came to choosing clothes for an adolescent girl – which is why I was always slightly daggy at school and never got Josh Goldenbum to love me.
Still, I never did wear exactly the same outfit as someone else, except for twice on the very same day.
I had two birthday parties on the same day, one in the afternoon, and one at night. I went to the daytime party in a brand new dress, and to this day I remember it with absolute clarity. It was pink and short sleeved, with a little belt and a bright floral print. And Monica Biggs was wearing the exact same dress. What’s worse, she looked better than me. I was devastated.
Still, there was always the disco party that evening. I had a second dress, a gorgeous little number from The Individual Kid that I absolutely adored. It had a purple tank top, to which a green, pink and purple striped skirt was attached. I looked terrific in it. Sadly, though, Jessie Freed looked even better. Individual Kid my arse. I wanted to cry.