Hey there, pretty lady.

Compliment me on my eyes...oh, that's so kind of you.  Compliment me on my personality...oh, thank you, thank you.  But compliment me on my shoes...that's when the angels sing.  The follies of a shoe addict and fashion fanatic - that's the story of my life.

After being complimented on my shoes during a job interview, and having even a security guard remember the dress I was wearing, I couldn't help but give an embarrassed chuckle over how compliments like these mean the world to fashion lovers.  While some girls crave attention to things, ahem, other than their outfits, there's nothing that makes a girl like me smile more than being complimented on her clothes.

I stress that this is an entirely embarrassing thing to admit; I'm aware I risk sounding like a completely shallow person.  But at the same time, is it still being shallow if I'm not judging other people, but rather the one being judged?  When I don't inflict venomous judgments on the outfits of others, and at the same time, never fish for compliments on my own attire?  Truly mindblowing stuff.  Well, anyway, in the end, I see it as an innocent matter of me just being easily humbled by something as simple as "I like your shirt!".  After all, my outfits are extensions of my personality, and being noticed for and complimented on my ability to express myself is something I am not ashamed to be flattered by.

Here's how to check if you're like me (which I almost hope you aren't, for the sake of your sanity):

Pick up an article of clothing and ask:

1. Has someone complimented you on this item? 
2. How many people in total have complimented it?
3. Who were they?
4. When were you were complimented?
5. Where were you complimented?
6. How did they compliment you?

If you can answer all of the questions, then - brace yourself - you're like me! 

I can go as far back as remembering the very first time I was complimented on something I wore.  It was on a pair of jeans, during Grade 7, in the change room after gym class, by a best friend.  You can pick up any piece of clothing from my closet and I can tell you all the compliments or comments it's received (if any).  I can tell you about the first time I was complimented by a stranger (Superstore employee - when I was checking out their free samples - silk Banana Republic button-up - total compliments on that item of clothing: 3), the first time I was complimented by a, I guess, "popular girl" (Grade 8 - school camping trip - by a picnic bench - said I always had the best clothes (um, what?) - Tommy Hilfiger top), my most-complimented-on item (brown leather boots from Aldo), or...ok, you get the idea.  Et cetera, et cetera.

So what have I achieved by telling you this?  Possibly I have lost a notch of your respect, or possibly I have shown you that, although it may not seem like it, what people think of the way I look isn't all that important to me.  There is a fine difference between caring about your looks, and just being thoroughly flattered when someone compliments you.  What makes me happy is when someone goes out of their way to tell me they like the way I express myself creatively: through my clothing.  But I never dress with the intent of gaining compliments; I always dress for myself.  Like an artist, my clothes are my paint.  My outfit is my masterpiece.  I'm honoured if you like it, but it doesn't matter to me if you don't.

 
Image Source: Photo1, 2, 3, 4, 5