the wes show: what do i wear?

I have the worst problem with clothes. It began with a shopping obsession, which has died down in recent years as I've grown up and realized that I end up never wearing things or outgrow them much too quickly. Seriously, I must have the body of Carnie Wilson because I feel like it's so fluctuating that I can never know what I'll fit into. People will say that I'm crazy, but it's not that I think that I'm fat. I don't think I'm fat. Flabby, maybe. I have a lot of toning to do, and WiiFit just doesn't seem to be cutting it. I'm scared to actually leave the house to exercise, so I don't really know when this situation is going to get better. I've just been putting my faith in science and scientists to create muscles for me one day so I won't have to do anything. Keep doing what you're doing, science people and I'll reap the benefits when you actually put your brains to work and make my life more convenient for me.

But, really. My obsession with buying clothes has died down a lot. Probably because I can't affor

d them anymore and God knows there isn't an H&M anywhere in arms reach of bumfuck North Carolina. My thing is that I've always had trouble with style. I've never known my place. I would say I'm pretty clean-cut, all-American with a little teensy tiny bit of spunk. Or maybe I just wish I had that teensy bit of spunk. On good days (see right), I'd describe myself as a male Gwen Stefani. I have one outfit that could maybe qualify me as that. All other times, I'm just wearing an H&M or Gap shirt, some worn out jeans and whatever shoes remotely match.

I have to admit, I am excessively envious of those with that effortless style (alliteration, hay!). I want the "ohyahduuude I just threw this on and ran out the door" look so badly it hurts. But every time I try to do that, I run out the door and inevitably catch a mirror and go "what the fuck do you think you're doing?!" And usually, I go back to the bathroom, fix my hair five more times (I have a buzz), change clothes (five more times) and then leave, usually in the same tired outfit that I've found gets compliments.

This process of the changing-of-the-clothes is like a joke to my friends and roommates. Seriously, anyone who has had the esteemed pleasure of living with me knows that it's kind of ridiculous. And by kind of ridiculous, I mean absolutely out of control and annoying and silly. I can always find something wrong with the fit that will make me just put it back in the closet, along with Anderson Cooper. So, you'd think that when I was trying on clothes, I'd be a little bit more scrutinizing of how it looks and fits, but usually I'm in such a rabid frenzy of wantwantwantgottahaveneeditnow that I just can't help myself.

I've had a fashion-identity crisis ever since I stopped shopping with my mom (which was after she took me to the husky section during my fat days and tried to get me to wear husky jeans and I was. not. having. it). My style has

always tended to meander from that clean-cut Gap posterboy to falling in love with graphic tees to trying stuff a little bit more funky lately. And then I go to places like New York, or San Francisco where everyone is beautiful (okay, New York, not so much) but at least fashionable.

I've come to the conclusion that having fashion equates to having confidence. As I stated earlier, I am desperate for that just rolled-out-of-bed-or-a-ditch look, and I think all the guys that I've seen with that style get away with it cause they know they look good. I can't get past the mirror, which is also the great fountain of self-doubt and self-loathing. So, maybe I should just shatter all of my mirrors and wear whatever's comfortable and let Nylon Guys profile me for their next issue on what's hot. But seriously, the focus of this blog (like I actually have one) is about my steps into self-confidence, and maybe as I get some mileage, my style will fall into place. Until then, I promise to never rock the "style" to your left.

My style inspirations:

Jake Gyllenhaal, so effortlessly hot.