On Trend-Following or Lack Thereof

So I have decided that UGG must be short for "ugly". Some of the boots I've seen are passable, but most of them...yep, they're ugly. I can think of better ways to spend my $70, thank you very much.

Thank goodness I'm not a kid now because sillybandz are probably the lame-est trend ever. What on earth is so desirable about a colorful, non-functional rubber band? You can't tell what shape they are when you wear them, so what is the point? And kids trade them like they're valuable; "I'll trade your star for my dinosaur." *eye roll* If they are just meant to be fun-shaped bracelets, then call them sillybracelets. Now slap-bracelets – those were cool. And at least POGS were a fun game, lame as that trend was. I was a little old by the time the Pokemon craze was in full-swing, but it, at least, seemed more like a cute kids' game than a dumb trend.

If you can't tell, I've never been much of a trend-follower. That's not to say I'm a trend-setter, however, as that certainly isn't the case either. I just mean to say that I'm usually the last to succumb to a new trend. Part of the time, I'm probably blithely unaware of the comings and goings of trends, while other times I just don't care.

Rewind back to about 1992, when I was about 9 years old. Jeans were first starting to be cool (for my demographic) and stretch-pants were on the way out. I was hesitant. Given the choice between my single pair of elastic-waist stonewashed jeans and my elastic-waist stretch-pants in almost every color, I would have chosen the stretch-pants every time. They were WAY more comfy; it was almost like wearing pajamas to school. But alas, peer pressure got the best of me, and I dropped the uncool stretch-pants for the stiff and rigid jeans. That was a very rare instance though, because normally, I'd go for what I wanted and not what was popular.

Oh, bangs are in? Hmm, that's interesting. Never had them. Never wanted them. I doubt I ever will.

People are always shocked, SHOCKED, I tell you, when they find out I don't have pierced ears. Seriously, you'd think I have two heads or something by the way they look at me. But to those who ask why, my answer is usually one of the following: "Why would I intentionally inflict pain on myself?" "I would never let a complete stranger point and shoot a gun at me for any reason." "I have attached earlobes, and earrings don't really look good on me anyway." "I'm too cheap for the expense of everything that comes with pierced ears." Growing up, Mom never flatly told me that I couldn't have pierced ears, but she did instill in me a mindset of "why would I want them?" If I got them for the same reasons most of my friends did, because "everyone else was doing it," than that was for the wrong reason. She did always half-jokingly say, "If God wanted your ears pierced, he would have made them that way." Honestly, I don't really think God cares whether my ears are pierced or not, but I do think he cares if I pierce them because I want to or if it's because other people do.

I didn't get my first real haircut until I was 14. I had had lots of trims, but that was the first time it had ever been cut. I've never permed it or dyed it (save one regrettable experience in college that thankfully didn't really affect my dark hair). I rarely blow dry it and even less rarely curl it. Hairdressers are always telling me how healthy my hair is. I'm pretty proud of that, not going to lie. I have almost always had long hair, and I suppose one reason is that I have always thought my hair was pretty. I don't mean that in a vain way. Believe me, I have never had a problem with vanity. But I've been complimented on my hair so many times throughout my life that I've finally believed it.

I am pretty proud of the times I've avoided trend-following. I don't know where it came from, but I prefer to just be me: my dorky, long-haired, bangs-less, cheap living, long-winded, God-following, husband-loving, odd-ball-in-the-crowd self. But honestly, I've never found myself longing for those stretch-pants again.