I can’t be the only person who feels immediately inadequate when they pass through the barriers at Leeds station. Not wanting to sound vain, (and realizing instantaneously that I am being) any positive ideas you had about your appearance go out of the window the instant that ticket pops up from the gate.
I know you shouldn’t care and it’s what you think that matters and all that, but it’s just an unwelcome kick in the balls each morning. Every time you dare believe you’re maybe just a little bit cool for once, or even just think you might fit in, within ten seconds a dozen cooler, smarter, trendier and better looking people pass you by. Admittedly at least four times as many walk past looking like complete arseholes, but they probably are, and therefore are convinced of their own coolness.
I don’t want to stand out, or be at the cutting edge, just to feel self-assured will do fine. This is not a problem in Bradford; I like to think we are generally more humble here. Of course there are a few who push the boat out, and some of the younger ones are looking a bit incomprehensible right now, but generally people are not as bothered. It’s not a competition like in, and I say this begrudgingly, our slightly bigger sister Leeds.
It should be good living so close to a cosmopolitan city, but most of the time it’s just a bit depressing. You always get the sense they are sneering at us, showing off how flash they are while picking apart the poor cousin. I, as you may have gathered commute between the two. The struggle to find a compromise leaves me perpetually stuck in the middle. Not quite cutting it at Uni but still finding myself breaking my own rules.
I vowed never to wear skinny jeans, but I’m now wearing slim fits. I promised myself never to wear those stupid white pumps, but now I have some blue ones. I even got a semi-trendy haircut; I couldn’t go the full hog of course because it would make me a twat. Never-the-less I am conforming and it irritates me.