<http://schema.org/articleBody>
"  I wish I didn&amp;#039;t do it. You wish you didn&amp;#039;t do it. But we all do it. And it isn&amp;#039;t the devil making us do it. We are all guilty of doing the once-over. It&amp;#039;s the instant judgment we make when we observe people. If you&amp;#039;re lucky, it&amp;#039;s only once, but it is most certainly all over. In an instant, unwittingly before our eyes, our once-over target is silently asked a barrage of questions: Is the skirt this season or last? Is the length au courant? Are the Vamp nails on the hand holding that &amp;quot;vintage&amp;quot; Fendi Baguette acrylic or natural? Is she wearing the latest and greatest from the season? Did she mix it up right? If I actually saw a woman wearing those gold-metal Balenciaga leggings, would I have to tell her she is not the droid we are looking for?  At the top of all of this is her head. Is the hair right for her? Or would she look better in bangs? Is the headband chic or too trendy? Do I approach her and ask her who cuts her hair or does her highlights?  When all this is tittering away in my mind (speaking of which, Are those implants or real?), not one thought is being articulated. It happens unwillingly; it&amp;#039;s InstaJudge. I hate it. Because I know if I am doing the once-over, it is being done to me. I don&amp;#039;t want to do it, yet I do. Why do we make these instant assessments of one another? Paging Ms. Paglia, Ms. Camille Paglia.  Perhaps the once-over is a universal hobby, a noncontact sport. Here&amp;#039;s what happens: You are at a party or walking down the street, or in an elevator or a restaurant. You are minding your own business. Then it happens. Someone walks by. Your head snaps. Up it goes to the hair. Down it goes to the shoes. Like something out of Minority Report, your mental computer has processed the evaluation and it is on your desk in triplicate. And because you can&amp;#039;t help it, you have mentally Photoshopped all of your corrections. I have given people complete makeovers in two seconds flat. And it isn&amp;#039;t necessarily because there is room for improvement. It&amp;#039;s more like playing with those magnetic clothes for magnetic dolls. It&amp;#039;s a way to rearrange something.  Of course, getting dressed shouldn&amp;#039;t be about what other people think. Dressing should be an expression of ourselves - and one of the best things about self-knowledge is not caring what other people think. For instance, wasn&amp;#039;t there some woman you knew growing up who had such defined personal style that she is still lodged in your memory? For me, there was the lady up the street who had classic, good style with her capri pants, tailored shirt, and loosely tousled hair. Or my friend&amp;#039;s mom, who always had a tan, frosted lips, frosted hair, dangling flower earrings, and a colorful shift. And my sister, I remember, looked goddesslike in the metallic-silver Greek-key prom gown my mom made for her. Ever since then, I&amp;#039;ve been trying to replicate her look with that special silver something.  Cut to now: A woman who walks into the room is so stylistically perfect, in your mind, that everything about her has to be catalogued and stored for future reference and style stealing. After all, there are legions of women today still copying Audrey and Jackie. And there are legions of women today copying Brigitte. (Bardot, not Nielsen, although I could make an argument that some women aspire to be like the latter. See: The Flavor of Love on VH1.) The once-over also exists in magazines. We have all seen the polls taken by some publications questioning random people about two women&amp;#039;s attire. This, of course, pits women against one another and propagates the theory that we really are catty and out to get one another, to one-up one another, to win. Win what? There is no need to put someone else down to make ourselves feel like winners. I just want to be bien dans ma peau. I want to feel good in my skin. Pass the Cr\u00E8me de la Mer, please. Which is why, in the end, the women I most enjoy looking at look comfortable. Comfort is enviable. My stylist friend Jane always looks chic and seems unable to tolerate discomfort. But why is it when I get dressed up, it feels as if I am living in the 19th century? I was once breathless at a White House state dinner seated next to John F. Kennedy Jr. He was as gorgeous a man as exists, but it was my Herv\u00E9 L\u00E9ger dress that made me unable to speak. It&amp;#039;s possible that I actually turned blue. I was so strapped in by those L\u00E9ger bonds that all I could think of was getting out of them and into sweats. I&amp;#039;m sure Carolyn, his wife, was giving me the once-over, but with concern for my well-being.  Shoes are always a good way to guarantee discomfort. I remember well the Greek Easter celebration party when I wore the most beautiful high-heeled sandals \u2014 making my legs look long and lean \u2014 only to abandon them shortly after dancing the hasapiko for two hours straight. I am sure all the wise Greek yiayias were sending me the evil eye since I went home with blisters that didn&amp;#039;t heal for three weeks. So what do we get out of the once-over? I guess it&amp;#039;s seeing how we stack up against others. Being the butt of jokes about your clothes, hair, or look is no fun. We have all had the experience of thinking we looked damn good, only to see a picture of ourselves at a later date and ask the question &amp;quot;What was I thinking?&amp;quot;  Show me a woman who doesn&amp;#039;t do the once-over, either positively or negatively, and I will show you a woman who tells you she has enough shoes. There have been times when I&amp;#039;ve wished I could turn off my fashion autocritic, especially since I should not be one to judge. One needs only to go through my photo albums to see how I would have failed my own once-over of myself many, many times. But there were some times that were successful, too.  A while ago I took a dance class in a large mirrored studio. The teacher taught me a valuable lesson. As everyone was so self-conscious to try the new steps, he asked us what we were so afraid of. Answering his own question, he said, &amp;quot;Are you afraid other people are looking at you? I can tell you right now they are too busy looking at themselves to worry about looking at you.&amp;quot; That is so true and extremely comforting. I will ponder that as I am getting my neck massage. "^^<http://www.w3.org/2001/XMLSchema#string>
<http://www.harpersbazaar.com/fashion/trends/a121/what-your-clothes-say-0307/>