Are you a fashion assassin or a victim?

A fashion victim is, according to my very knowledgeable friend, someone who's so consumed by fashion trends that he/she ODs on it.

The term 'fashion victim' was bandied about within my earshot a few weeks ago. I've heard it earlier obviously, but never in context; and I'd never bothered to dig deep into it, dismissing it as yet another nice-ish turn of phrase which probably meant someone who's not "on trend" or "in style". My friend, who was referring to someone we both knew as being a fashion victim, explained to me what it really meant. It's not being 'unfashionable' or out of trend - being the only person in the room who's wearing something "oh-so-90s!" or carrying a tote that some celebrity has panned of late and has, therefore, gone out of style - but being too on trend (apparently, even fashion has boundaries, which you shouldn't normally cross, and the term was coined by the venerable Oscar de la Renta).
A fashion victim is, according to my very knowledgeable friend, someone who's so consumed by fashion trends that he/she ODs on it. And trips very inelegantly. Instead of your sensible sensibilities dictating how fashionable you should be, fashion has a morbid hold on you. You end up the victim. Not so much wearing fashion as fashion wears you.
Now, I realise that I'm definitely not a fashion victim - I would never run to the nearest store to stock up on new ensembles because I've got a notification on Whatsapp or Twitter that so-and-so brand has just unveiled its utterly droolworthy new winter range. My favourite pieces of clothing are ones I've carefully preserved over years. even decades. In fact, I'm always thrilled about how I still fit into my quarter-century-old college-year jeans; yes, I still have a couple of pairs from way back then. I'd picked up a black T-shirt from Bangkok (it has the four faces of The Beatles splayed across it), and whenever I wear it, I only hear compliments (have even attended five-starry events in it). I always handwash it with a very gentle detergent, dry it indoors, iron it inside out and all of that. I love it, and I'm not ashamed to tell someone (whenever he or she gushes over it) that it was bought off a shady alley in sin city a decade ago.
On the other hand, all my designer bags - that I've bought mostly because whenever I'm in malls (anywhere in the world, so let's not blame Dubai), I'm overcome by a need for conspicuous consumption - are lying in my wardrobe in a state of disarray. Instead of taking them to the bag spa, I fling them across the room whenever they come in my way (at times, I've trampled over them).
Many of my friends have clothes and accessories (two sectors that I'd thought sum up fashion) they flog whenever they are out of flavour. Out of season. This obviously applies to high street fashion (if you own a piece of haute couture, you better preserve it the way I do my 100-baht T-shirt). But now I see that beauty products have also become seasonal. So, it's fashionable to wear a taupe-coloured nail paint this Christmas holiday season - but please, please, don't be caught dead in it around February; by then, you need to be in flaming red (the fashion forecasters have spoken, so hold your peace). Lipsticks, and eye shadows too - the palette changes like a chameleon.
Speaking for myself, I have exactly two lipstick shades I wear; I don't care if they are trendy, if they have ever been in trend. or if they ever will be. I'm happy to get my stock of these semi-unbranded numbers (with branded ones, it would be a huge problem getting the same colour after six months: "We've stopped manufacturing them because the colours are out of season," I used to be told very often) from a little shop in south Delhi that has, thankfully, not fallen victim to fashion trends.
I'm guessing I am the exact opposite of a fashion victim. What's the antonym of 'victim'? A quick Google search and here's a list: killer, murderer, harmer, injurer and, finally, assassin.
sushmita@khaleejtimes.com