No Exit in Deciding What to Wear

In No Exit, there is a part when Estelle tries to search for a mirror in hopes of checking her appearance. Reading this bit, I started to question why Estelle even needed a mirror if she knew she was going to be stuck in this room with these people for the rest of eternity, these people would eventually see her “real” self, beneath the façade of attempted beauty. Some interpretations of Estelle’s need for a mirror claim it is her attempt at avoiding the judging gaze of the other two people in hell with her, Garcin and Inez. I don’t agree.

When I look in the mirror, I judge my appearance by imagining what observers would think about my appearance. It’s not a one-to-one relationship; rather it is me combatting my appearance with not just my own judgmental gaze, but the hundreds of other “potential” gazes that might scorn me throughout the day. I search for mirrors to check if my appearance is suitable for the gaze of others, not to escape the gaze of others.

Be yourself.

Be true to yourself.

Dress for yourself.

Screw what others think!

F**k the haters!

I love me!

We are force-fed these “mottos,” we are told to celebrate and embrace our differences. We are told our whole lives to live for ourselves, to not care what others think, to be defined by our own virtues. Yet we are defined by our conformities. Why else do fashion trends exist? Why else does every other person in Paris own a pair of Stan Smiths? Why do certain groups of people all have the same mannerisms? We create connections with our surroundings not by being different, but by adjusting our actions & reactions to what we believe those around us deem acceptable. We are sold a brand of individuality, we are told to celebrate our differences, yet the fabric of our society (and any society that has existed) is based in conditioned similarities.

In a dream scenario, the logic goes that once you are able to be freed of the necessity to keep up appearances/character for others, only then will you be free to be yourself. But then what is yourself? Regardless of Estelle being in an eternal hell (where it doesn’t really matter whether there are people around to judge her ‘cause whoops she’s stuck with them), she still seeks to define herself by her relationship to a supposed manly man, as being the negative (not in the good/bad sense but the yin-yang sense) counterpart to masculinity. This interpretation of what it means to be feminine is, of course, shaped by her surroundings, by her life-long exposure to the male gaze.

In my own exposure to the male gaze, I find myself trying to actively combat it. Every morning, I deliberate whether I am wearing an outfit for the sake of being comfortable (and in turn “for myself”) or to be attractive to others. And then when I catch myself dressing for attention or for other people’s admiration, and I actively decide change my outfit. But in doing so, I am still allowing myself to be defined by other people’s opinions. In my mind, being perceived as attention-getting is negative (because I perceive others to think it is negative as well) so in hopes of being perceived positively, I still dress in accordance to others opinions. It’s a lose-lose situation.  And one that I battle with every morning.  Hell really is other people.

And it differs from place to place of course, with each new location having its own sets of norms when it comes to appearances and actions. Coming from New York dressing ‘outrageously’ (aka for Parisians, in color or with body parts exposed) is a tired act, I’ve noticed that my time in Paris has made me dress more conservatively as it feels forced, attention-seeking and uncomfortable to wear things I don’t think twice about in NY. As I spend more time here, my notion of “clothes I feel comfortable in” shifts closer and closer to my notion of “what Parisian’s judging gazes find acceptable.” I am defined by what I am not, and I am not what I thought I was before I came here. I thought I was someone who enjoyed to dress in color, I am indeed someone chasing the gap between myself and other’s opinions.

Hell is other people because we cannot avoid other people. Unless you die, though according to Sartre, the gaze continues in our eternities.