I have steadily become more enveloped into fashion tiktok. It started with a video walking through why old sweaters look (and were) of much better quality than fast fashion options nowadays. That Tiktoker even suggested search parameters on how to find great used sweaters on ebay, which I used to acquire my favorite sweater ever. I wish, somewhere in my head, that this is an area I didn’t care about. I have a strange mix of judgement and envy when I see someone able to leave their home with the fashion of 2003 Adam Sandler
If I reference Adam in enough of these blog posts maybe he’ll put me in a movie
But, I am excruciatingly self aware of these things, so men’s fashion TikTok it is. It’s there, watching Frontoffice.co’s channel, that I discovered an interesting concept — emotional durability. Everyone knows and understands physical durability. How long does something last? How well are the materials assembled? What is the quality of the materials themselves? Emotional durability in relation to clothes is that concept, but psychologically. Something might last 3, 4, 5, 10 years, but does the owner actually want to wear it after that time? Or has it lost it’s emotional appeal. It can be related to physical durability, but also may well not be. We’ve all had clothes that we’re desperate to wear even if they’re damn near falling apart.
Example A.
While this is so obviously a factor, nailing this down is difficult. It’s a slippery, subjective, Illusive concept. It’s also interesting when it doesn’t correlate with actual durability. It’s a concept I can’t help but begin applying elsewhere. I’m sure that there are many perfectly good Stanley Cups already shoved to the back of cabinets because their owner didn’t feel they had emotional durability. When you think about it, most fads of any kind reek of missing emotional durability. Any ‘flash in the pan’ zeitgeist media that you just have to watch and, importantly, people.
This isn’t some judgement — it’s a fact of relationships. There’s a much nicer way of describing friends that lack emotional durability: “FRIENDS OF CONVENIENCE” or maybe “WORK FRIENDS.” There’s no guilt here, we’ve all had them, we’ve all been them. And, as with other emotional durability cases, it’s not reflective of the quality of the person. There are people I’m critical of who I consider good friends, and there are people I think are spectacular who just didn’t have the emotional durability in my life. A lot of it feels like destiny. Forcing a friendship is like forcing yourself to wear something you’re no longer excited by.
So, are we doomed to repeat this cycle? Maybe.
One of the tasks before me is deciding how to proceed with old friends who I no longer keep up with. The decision amounts to: Reach out, or don’t reach out. This is enough of a tough choice in itself. All sorts of issues present themselves, fair and unfair. There’s the classic “why do I have to reach out, why can’t they!?” (Unfair.) Then there’s just the awkwardness of it.
“Hey. We haven’t spoken for 3 years, but did you see the new Wicked™ movie??”
Or, you do acknowledge the gap. You go full earnest and say you miss them. In theory, this is the best way to ensure a smooth reconnection. Put some effort in, and hope they reciprocate. If it works out, you’ve reconnected. You can tell wonderful stories as you catch up and ride your friendship renaissance into the sunset.
So, why haven’t I done this? I have so many friends I have incidentally disassociated with, why not reconnect? The answer is, drumroll please, the alternative.
Of course. The potential of them not reciprocating. Of leaving me on one knee as they go on spring break at Miami Beach. The risk of exposing yourself emotionally is that you’re revealing the real state of the relationship. Beforehand, you can chalk it up to negligence — We’re all busy as hell. I’m often far away. It’s a real challenge to keep up. Ect, ect. and in that world we can pretend. Like: hey, if we were to catch up, we’d be just fine. But reaching out is opening a schrodinger’s box, you know exactly where you’re at. It reveals whether that relationship distance was negligence, or if it’s an international act. A deliberate decision to go another way. It’s relationship murder versus manslaughter. For me it’s a lovely fantasy to not ask, to assume that the distance is circumstantial and not personal.
But that’s not true.
The real truth is that I could have these beautiful reconnections if I could endure the pain of those rejections. My ego and pride would be battered, but I’d rekindle the beauty of old. I think I need to do this. Maybe I’ll record the results. Something like: 43% of my old friends reconnected, 22% called me slurs, 18% hung up on me, ect. I imagine that would be a motivator — or demotivator — for others considering the same thing. In a sense, I can’t take the rejections that personally. They don’t know me now, they know some past version of me from 2, 3, 5+ years ago. There are plenty of long discarded traits of old Colin’s that I don’t like very much either.
It’s also true that you can’t force this kind of match. In the realm of emotional durability the best you can do is police the negative fads to avoid lost time and money, while, with people, being honest with yourself on just how durable that work friendship will be once they go to work at Raytheon. But the beauty in fashion and friendship is in discovering the joys of change with longevity. It’s emotional durability over fad. That being said, as long as they’re not too demanding, we can still enjoy our fast fashion, our Tiger Kings, our work friends, and our Stanley Cups. Just be honest with yourself.
Colin