It’s the “Wizard of Oz” syndrome - I create worlds of wonder and travel the nation because of my vintage style, but when placed in the same room as my “fans”, none of them can even recognize me. If they do, they sure know how to contain their excitement.
I attend fashion events and even my own magazine launch parties and no one notices me. I should be used to this by now. All my life, I’ve been invisible to people. They only started paying attention to me when I turned into someone else.
It didn’t matter who I became — a man, a woman, a popular person, a generic person, a new face, a familiar face — people only noticed me when I became something other than myself.
I should be used to this by now, but it’s a hard fact to get used to. The fact that my perceived self-worth is synonymous with someone else’s image; the fact that my own image is worthless.
As I approach what I assume will be the peak of my career, I can’t help but think about these things. Perhaps Paloma Faith summed my feelings up in the lyrics:
“I can be what you want me to be,
but do you want me?”