Un-styling Myself
I’ve decided that my clothes don’t speak for me
I was bullied at school a bit as a young teen. A girl once banged my head against a brick wall, saying she didn’t like my face. I did everything I could to swallow my tears. Instead of thinking that her comment had nothing to do with me and I didn’t need her to actually like my face, I instantly thought about ways I could improve my appearance to change her mind. I started to scrutinize what everyone was wearing: their style, hair, trends, etc. I started to craft an idea of what I could look like and how that would allow me to feel safe and prevent other people from not liking my face again.
“People knew me as the girl with the unique sense of style and they seemed to respect me for it.”
Skater girl was the style I chose (it was 1998 lol) and, with time, I became really good at it. I used my creative skills to make one-of-a-kind clothing. I coloured my hair and made fun accessories. It seemed like I was succeeding at being accepted because I started to get a lot of positive feedback. People knew me as the girl with the unique sense of style and they seemed to respect me for it.
Years down the road, this strategy of dressing to fascinate had evolved with me, except I think I was now doing it without being conscious about it. It felt as if knowing how to dress to get positive attention was a skill and it served me so well that I kept doing it. No matter how much I scrolled through Instagram wishing I was wearing the most minimalist outfits, I still bought clothes with bright colours, fun patterns and interesting cuts.
Then the pandemic hit.
I quit my job, got rid of 80% of what was left of my wardrobe and started working from home as a freelancer. I feel like dressing up has been on hold for two years. I wear sweatpants, plain t-shirts and I didn’t think about any of it — until now, as I decide to write this piece. When I go out in the world again, how do I want to dress?
“I want to free myself from my old tactics of using clothes and style as a way to be liked.”
As we prepare to live our lives in this soon-to-be post-pandemic era, I’ve been entertaining the idea of developing a signature uniform. Figuring out a few outfit options that feel like me and only sticking to them. Not just for work, for every occasion. I’m intrigued by this option because it’s sustainable and because I want to free myself from my old tactics of using clothes and style as a way to be liked. I think we all use fashion in some way to define who we are and control a narrative to our desired outcome. We dress the way we want people to see us as, and I want to try and dress to give others a chance to see me without the bells and whistles or any strategies. Think about it: Would we treat each other differently if we all wore denim jumpsuits every day? I don't want to take part in fashion, but I still want to dress in a way that feels aesthetically pleasing to me. Fashion without an agenda.
“I think we often don’t wear what we want. Instead, we wear what we are influenced to like and want by an industry that has a grip on what it thinks beauty should look like.”
I know what you’re thinking. Why overthink it? Why not just wear what we want? I think we often don’t wear what we want. Instead, we wear what we are influenced to like and want by an industry that has a grip on what it thinks beauty should look like. Taking the time to craft an idea of beauty that is unshaken by these outside influences feels to me like a powerful way to live my values and to present myself as my true self. Dogs don’t need outfits and decorations to be seen as amazing living things, so why should we? Write me a DM to let me know what your style uniform is. I’d love to know!
Editor: Anna Hou | Designer: Kelsey Wolf | Photographer: Warren Bray | Copy Editor: Katie Frankowicz | Communication/Support/Outreach: Karrie Witkin