I like uniform.
I don’t know why. I just do.
Maybe it’s because I’m too lazy to think, especially about what to wear. Maybe my world is complicated enough that I don’t want to be bother with things like clothing and fashion. Maybe I don’t like change. Maybe I’m just another boring human being. Maybe I’m simply all those things.
Seriously, I like uniform.
So much that I wanted so bad to work in a company where it is mandatory to wear uniform. So much that I started wearing the same clothes on weekends, or worse, weekdays. It was actually my friends who made me notice the pattern, but strangely, knowing that they are aware of that, I felt a feeling of comfort. Comfort because I thought, now they all know it so I won’t look as weird anymore, even so, I could care less. Well, I can say nothing, I’m speechless when I’m comfortable.
Today, like all other Saturdays, I wore my red shirt-black skirt outfit complete with black-and-very-comfortable Bata sandals and my sling bag. Like...