We wear clothing for warmth and for modesty. We wear it to distract eyes and to guide them. We make it a social marker, but also a symbol of changing times. It is a necessity, but also, in forms, our most lavish luxury.
Whole industries are devoted to people putting clothing on, and also to taking it off. It’s odd how fabrics and colors have become so identified with attraction and the drives that lead us to shed our clothes. Perhaps it is the dullness of our skin and the odd shapes of our flesh that lead us to dress up like more colorful creatures, in more pleasant shapes.
It’s in uniforms where clothing takes on its most dramatic form, molding us into entirely new characters—ballerinas, chefs, soldiers and lifeguards. We can identify so strongly with the suits we put on that we are loathe to take them off, we become something less without them. It makes us wonder if it’s the work and the calling that bring us back day by day, or the costumes and roles we can’t wait to play again.