Inside a second-grade classroom circa 2011, a group of then-gifted kids and current mental patients gathers around a table for an advanced spelling lesson. The teacher, donning an aggressive 2010s mom haircut, instructs the students on suffixes, paying particular attention to the tricky -ion ending. She asks her pupils to write a word on their white boards with that suffix, so naturally, my younger self was eager to share my answer: “fashion”.
I’ve always cared about what I was wearing, initially because that was all I knew. Photos from preschool show me in borderline business casual next to my peers in t-shirts because my mom is out of her mind. My style has now become something that is truly my own despite its awkward phases it took to get here. Here’s me explaining my fashion *journey* and tips to developing your own personal style.
Phase 1: Middle School
I’m starting with middle school because that was around the start of me picking out clothes for myself. Don’t get me wrong, my mom still bought most of my things, all of which originated from Walmart or Kohl’s, but I could occasionally pick out a shirt or two. I suffered from severe body insecurities and had just begun questioning my gender, so I almost always opted for oversized graphic tees from Hot Topic. I wore my two favorites virtually every week: a Steven Universe tee and a shirt with a burger on it that said, “HEALTH NUT!!!” People asked me all the time if I was really health conscious as if I wasn’t giving “fat, funny friend” vibes (I was). I barely have any photos from this time because of my body shame.
Also around this time, I opened my first Tumblr account. The beginning of the end, I know. A gif set of a runway appeared on my feed one day and permanently changed my brain. It was the Moschino S/S 2015 collection, AKA the Barbie collection. Fashion had always seemed like something stuffy and impossible to understand, but here was a fashion house that didn’t take itself so seriously. I was obsessed, yet I still didn’t know how to incorporate that into my own style, especially when confined to my parents’ limited income.
Phase 2: Freshman Year
I started high school as a trans guy and as we all know, men look terrible. I wore the same Walmart khakis, blue t-shirt, and red Chuck Taylors because I thought they really complimented my bowl cut. It was 2017 and I was obsessed with Conan Gray’s YouTube channel, so I forcibly adopted the primary color aesthetic. Only for me to realize I don’t have much yellow or blue, which thus sparked an appreciation for the color red.
Phase 3: Sophomore Year
The love for red truly flourished in year two of high school alongside a newfound passion for thrifting. Buying secondhand allowed me to experiment, but still within the confines of the wannabe-male-manipulator aesthetic. I wore so many red sweaters and cuffed jeans, you would think I was an American Boy Doll and that was the outfit I came with.
Phase 4: Junior Year
My “boy” style had finally peaked. I had accumulated some good thrift finds and even better judgement. I felt like hot shit. I also realized my past mistakes. I wore the same things all the time, which a true (privileged, classist) fashionista would never do. I told myself I couldn’t outfit repeat within the quarter of the school year, and sometimes challenged myself to wear different shoes each day of the week. While that sounds stifling, it let me really test my style prowess.
I had one of my first huge depressive episodes that year, so enter: wannabe emo Jackson. You could totally tell because I wore black jeans and occasionally painted my nails. Yeah, that was about how dedicated to the aesthetic I was. I would definitely categorize it more as “indie” than emo, but the attempt was adorable nonetheless. Despite the increased moodiness, I still had a hearty group of signature “Jackson” items in frequent rotation; namely khaki joggers, a sherpa denim jacket, Chuck Taylors, a puffer vest, and checkered vans with a blurred effect over them.
I slowly but surely began to play with femininity, which unfortunately leads us to…
Phase 5: Senior Year/Dark Ages
Senior year of high school, I had gone back to identifying as a straight female. I couldn’t tell you what I was thinking (repression). My style took a turn for the basic as my wardrobe filled with even more Kohl’s and SHEIN. When looking at old photos of myself, the “boy” ones feel far more authentic than these. I still have a few items from this point in my life, and I hate most of them no matter how cute they are.
Phase 6: Summer-Fall 2021
I had to face the music that I was queerer than a rainbow softball sold at a San Francisco Home Depot, and the way I was presenting myself couldn’t feel further from who I was. I begun to embrace the dyke inside of me as a cry for actual dykes inside of me (help wanted). Very baby gay-core, with a part of me that was still trying to appeal to clones on my college campus. Definitely not for me.
Phase 7: F/W 2021
Surprise, surprise: I entered another depressive episode. This time, it came with a tattoo choker and vengeance. No offense to depressed people, but being that suicidal is, like, so embarrassing. I shut down and barely spoke to anyone, so the one thing people really knew about me was how well I dressed. I was never known for my style before college and I’m not gonna lie, the compliments are intoxicating. It became my one escape, the only form of self-expression I had where I wasn’t overly critiquing it. It was official. I had fallen in love.
Phase 8: 2022
Here we are in present day. My aesthetic is now fully realized, with the edgy tendencies meeting the colorful artsy side, since I’ve finally given the Eeyore shtick a break. Critics are calling it, “emo librarian”. I’ve also found a brand of femininity that feels authentic. That being said, I do feel a bit stuck. Like, what’s next? I don’t know. I’ll figure it out, but it’s such an annoying feeling. And a really fun challenge.
My tips:
1. This first one I’m stealing directly from a YouTube video I watched, but have no idea what the video was. What can I say? The best creators are thieves. I’m the Andy Warhol of bloggers. The minimalist lifestyle white girl said to pick between black and white as well as between neutrals and color. I chose black and color as my go-to combination, and this method makes picking out outfits incredibly easy since most of what I own falls under one of those two categories. Even better, it creates more consistency between looks.
2. Create a “default” skin. I have so many. No one will ever know when I’m running late and didn’t have time to think of an original outfit because I have so many variations of the same base look. Maxi skirt, crop top, and jacket is the current default, but I relied on black pants and a red shirt for a minute. There was also a short-lived era of black turtleneck, black leggings, and jacket. I love being a cartoon character in that way.
3. Find inspiration in new places. Tiktok is a horrible place for fashion inspiration; it shows you all the microtrends you think you need when you really don’t. Plus, once everyone’s wearing it, it’s already too late. The real tea is on the runway. Vogue accounts are free and grant you access to virtually any runway. Oh my God. Amazing stuff. I also love looking to different decades and seeing what still holds up and can be easily recreated in 2022.
4. The term “healing your inner child” has been run to the ground, but it really does make you feel good. I grew up watching a ton of 90s reruns, so I take a lot of inspiration from Tia and Tamera Mowry in Sister, Sister, Melissa Joan Hart’s Sabrina, the Teenage Witch, and of course, Fran Drescher in The Nanny. Icons.
5. Lastly, wear what makes you feel confident. Have fun no matter what anyone else is doing, because what they’re doing is so last season.