No One Knows What I’m Wearing Anymore but I Swear I’m Dressed as Santa

Quarantine adapting, as told through my outfits.

BY: NOAH FARBERMAN

Photo by Tim Mossholder via Unsplash

I have eight short-sleeve button-up shirts in my closet. Ranging from blue to red, from floral to alcohol, from tight-fitting to gut-over-hanging. They pair with jeans, shorts, khakis, and sweatpants (oddly well). Most of them are torn at the pocket, missing a button, or starting to fade. Most of them came from thrift stores. Most days I wore them.

This week, I’m sporting the same pyjamas every morning while I work. On days with live video-chats I’ll throw on an oversized sweater and brush my hair with my hand. I’m a messy little slob in a stinky little room. I’m pretty sure if I didn’t have a chiropractor appointment at two PM (I’LL WEAR A MASK AND BRING MY POCKET SANI!) I wouldn’t be changing outfits until dinner. 

The thing is, while this dichotomy seems clear set and fundamental now, those aren’t my only two attires. The other day I woke up and grabbed the Santa Claus hat hanging in the corner of my room and the pair of fake glasses I keep on my bedside table, they help me read and write from a different POV, and I put the two obscure items on my head. Then, I lived as Santa Claus for ten hours.

I didn’t leave my room. 

I didn’t tell anybody. 

I didn’t take the hat off until I went to grab dinner. 

I didn’t know what it meant, or why it felt good. 

I think it’s probably common knowledge to say that we’re all going to leave this isolation a little weirder. I mean, how well did we really know ourselves before this time? A lot of who we are is a combination of the behaviours exhibited by those we spend the most time with. Without those others keeping us growing and changing, are we stagnating or growing from within? Who is watering the plant of us? Or, if you want a less terrible metaphor: If you talk to yourself in the mirror, do you believe everything you say?

Maybe there’s something in trying to laugh alone, or trying to wear something that breaks the form. After my Santa day, I wore every sweater in my closet, I put on a dress shirt for my lectures, and on a quiet day I wore the comfy stuff I hadn’t in years. I have this poncho-vest-shawl combo that looks horrifying and completely unbecoming for me, but it feels like a cloud solidified into a Webkinz just to give me a loose hug. Here’s what I thought I learned about myself: It’s not dressing like a weirdo or dressing the most comfortably that makes me feel better; it’s dressing abnormally from the New Normal. 

I don’t feel good when I wear dirty pyjamas, in fact, I feel dirty. I don’t feel good in a comfortable sweater, I feel like the chair I’m sitting in. But when I buttoned up my horse and farm-themed LongSleeve Dress Shirt for the first time since March, I felt, well, normal. 

Photo by Edwin Hooper via Unsplash

And then I relapsed back into my pyjamas. This is where things get frustrating for me. Back in March I never felt too great wearing my Hawaiian button-ups. I felt free and like I was being myself, but I also felt outcast. Those shirts might have looked good on me (THEY DID!) and they might have felt appropriate when I did stand-up comedy, but the fact is most people don’t wear vacation shirts when not on vacation. I felt like I was calling out for attention, even though my goal was to wear the clothes that made me feel the best. Imagined, or real, the societal pressure of comparing myself to everyone else was a living problem. So isolation came as a stress-reliever, not overall, it’s still a nightmare new world we’re in, but I’ve always tried to find a positive and the positive for me was not having to dress to impress anymore. Being lazy felt really nice, for a while. It was a whole thing I could stop worrying about, heck I could stop thinking about. Clothing was out of my head like in-house dining and public swimming. 

I hate to say it (only because this is a really stupid sentence) but Santa Claus reminded me that stress is a motivator. Not needing to get dressed meant not needing to leave the house, to commute, to communicate, to explore. I became consumed with media and literature. I lost motivation and weight. I lost myself. 

And then, dressed as Santa Claus, I looked in the mirror and said to myself “Christmas is around the corner. And Chanukah too, in case you’re celebrating both this year, I know you haven’t decided yet. Good boys get dressed. Good boys do their work. Good boys are motivated.” 

Me Santa was right. I wasn’t being a good boy, I was being a desk chair. 

So we’re back to now. Sitting in old pyjamas writing about how I can’t stand my own fashion with a sore-neck and a bad attitude. Sort of. 

While I’ve been wearing pajamas most weekdays, I’ve also been showering and getting dressed up for dinner every night. I’ve been keeping on top of my work and school and even talking to friends way more often. I’ve found…moderation.

It’s obvious, right? I should have realized that Moderation was the answer months ago? Ugh, I know. Hindsight is a monster. Or maybe it’s just that the obvious is always hiding in plain sight. 

Why did it take me so long to realize that balancing the new with the old was the only way for me to stay sane? When I got my first wallet I used to leave the house without it all the time. Sort of like, oh I don’t know, my current issue with face-masks. Or my old button-ups, I used to never know how many buttons I should be doing up. Do I leave the top two undone? Should I have an undershirt (NO!)? Today, the question is: which pyjama shirt is inappropriate for class? Is it my Fan Expo 2016 Tee or my Bunny Hop 2018 Tank? 

Photo by Michael Marais via Unsplash

The fact is, I’ll never be comfortable until I’m accustomed. I wish I had a way to tie Santa Claus into this lesson, but I’m a bad little boy who chose to write about a real outfit I wore instead of  formulating a narrative with a clear throughline and message! Fill my stocking with coal if you can, Santa, because I’ve lined my chimney with Sanitizer and stuffed the top with face-masks, you super spreading son-of-a-wish! 

Merry Isolation, everyone, and a Happy New Reality!