I am not going to pretend that I know anything about fashion. Far from it to be honest. I am the last person people go-to for fashion advice and the first one to ask for it. I have trouble with the most basic of fashion things. I can hardly match my outfits and I certainly cannot tell other people how to do so.
You will most likely see me in jeans, a T-Shirt, and dirty shoes. I mildly accessorize with a pair of hoops or a headscarf. And if you see me in anything more than that, then it’s a guarantee that my best friend put the outfit together.
And I don’t care.
At least I didn’t use to.
Little me was all about color and prints and sparkle and fun clothes. She wore stripes with cheetah print. She wore purple jeans with a blue, rainbow, glitter shirt. She wore bright yellow with polka dots and multi-colored high tops. And she could not have cared less. She wore her outfits with pride and without thinking about what everyone else would think. I admire that about her. I admire her bravery to wear whatever she wants. And it might be weird to call something so simple brave, but in a world where looks mean everything, it’s important.
I’m sad to say that these days I wear a lot less color and almost no glitter. I am not generally brave in my fashion choices. It could be that I grew up and grew out of what little I liked. But it could also be a side effect of growing up in this society. I think a part of me started caring about what people thought about my fashion choices. There would be sly comments about how I was dressed that day or looks from people who didn’t like my choices. In sixth grade, these boys told me that I looked like a messed- up walrus because of the shirt I chose. I think that was around when I decided to tone down my clothes.
My closet and my dresser now are very different than what it was when I was little. I have only blue or black jeans. No more purple or red. My shirts are just regular T-Shirts of a variety of colors that generally do no standout. No more glitter. I have toned done little me and pushed her to the back. There was a time when I would wear an all-yellow outfit. From the headband to the feathered earrings to the jeans, it was just yellow. Now, I wear one yellow item at most. There isn’t much fun in my clothes anymore, because for some reason I wanted to fit in. I want to say that I told those boys in sixth grade to go to Hell. But I didn’t. I let their words affect how I saw my fashion choices which I have always regretted.
I understand the desire to want to fit in. A big part of me does the same thing when I get up and choose something in the morning. However, I am a very lazy dresser and a bigger part of me is more concerned about being comfortable than about other peoples’ opinions. I have started letting go of this idea that I need other people to validate my choices in what I decide to wear. Life is not a fashion show which can be a hard pill to swallow. It should not be up to society to dictate fashion. I think fashion is just being confident in what you’re wearing. It isn’t the latest “trends” nor is it whatever that one celebrity is wearing this week. It’s what you choose to buy and put on because it makes you feel good about yourself.
If a crop top and high waisted jeans make you feel beautiful, then wear it. If a sweater and boots make you feel comfortable, then wear it. If sweats and a hoodie make you feel sexy, then wear it. If a short dress and high heels make you feel like the Queen you are, then wear it. Tell the people who call you a messed- up walrus to go to Hell. If you feel good about your outfit, then wear whatever you want. You know why? Because that’s fashion, baby!