Identifying with fashion
I’ve always tried way too hard to fit in. My parents repeatedly told me this growing up, but I couldn’t quite grasp why it was a bad thing. I thought, “well at least I have friends”.
It’s not until recently that I’ve come to an understanding of why this was bad for me. For some reason, 10-year old me thought it was normal to ask my parents to re-pack my lunch if it wasn’t identical to what “my friends” ate. This wasn’t always an easy fight. I dreaded the mornings my dad stood in the kitchen as his lunches were non-refundable… and an easy target to make fun of. On dad’s days, as any sensible and insecure kid would do, I pretended to be sick at 11:00 – conveniently 30 minutes before lunchtime. Being easily manipulated by my insecurities, my mother would pick me up in irritation. From the backseat of her car, I’d salt the wound by suggesting we go shopping as I wanted to buy the clothes that “my friends” told me I had to wear. It wasn’t long until I transferred out of this school, and after that, I transferred four more times. As a result of being a people-pleaser, I was the epitome of choosing ‘flight’ in a ‘fight or flight’ situation. After running out of schools in the county to transfer to, I finally learned that this wasn’t a sustainable way to live.
My epiphany changed my life, and I was now the main character of a cliché-movie; soaring down the street to “I’m walking on sunshine”. Finding my self-respect resulted in true friendships. I made real friends who loved me despite my smelly tuna sandwiches for lunch. Together, we took control of our lives, and I moved up my personalised version of [Maslow’s] hierarchy of needs. Following the tier of self respect came self expression. No longer being tied down to ‘the Hollister tee’, or my ‘one size fit-none’ Brandy Melville shorts, brought me to my love for fashion. This may sound redundant, but I began dressing as a means for self expression. I like to compare it to someone who loves to sing, but that also has stage fright. Being vulnerable was my biggest fear, but it went hand in hand with staying true to myself. At the time, wearing clothes different from others felt like enlarging a target on myself for judgment. However, being surrounded with people that love me placed barriers around that target. Subsequently to my newfound passion, I moved to the third tier of ‘the hierarchy’, seeking self-actualisation.
At this point, fashion was a part of my identity, something we spend our entire lives searching for. That is why it feels so rewarding when we find someone (my friends), and something (fashion), to identify with. However, if that part of your identity is taken away, will you be left with an identity crisis? That is what happened to me, it was an unpredictable effect of what was supposed to be an exciting result of ‘self-actualisation’. It all began with me naively packing my bags in Gothenburg, Sweden, to begin my three year degree at the University of Leeds. The first trigger to my crisis; packing my entire personality into two suitcases that were to be approved by the Ryanair guidelines. I assume that most international students can relate to this, as well as the gaslighting culture shock that followed. Since I came here, the students and university have gone above and beyond in easing my transition. However, I still found myself falling into the insecurities of my younger self; the little girl who just wanted to fit in. For the first time in so many years, I felt like an outsider again. I found myself confused as to how a two hour flight was enough time for me to lose myself. I felt my insecurities making their way to the surface, and I felt weak against them without the safety net of my friends. Not having someone to identify with made it impossible to even identify with myself. Looking back on it, I now know I was being too tough on myself – how did I expect to ‘find myself’ in a city where I didn’t even know where to buy my milk?
Prior to this recognition, ‘imposter syndrome’ took the best of me and snatched my style in the process. I bought a new jacket, I took a break from the quirky braids and I tucked my colourful jumpers to the side. Subconsciously, I dressed safe to feel safe, and in hindsight I now see why. First of all, without the comfort of my friends, family and culture, I was afraid to be myself. Secondly, as somebody from a different country, I wanted to show my respect for the culture of my new home. At the end of the day, I felt lost. I felt lost to an extent that I wasn’t prepared for and I’m sure a lot of international students can relate to this. Being alone is scary, however that fear diminishes once you’ve had the time to process your surroundings. With time, I became inspired rather than lost, which only strengthened my sense of self-expression. Instead of losing yourself between two cultures, remember that it’s okay to combine the two – I do this through fashion! I know that I wasn’t the only one feeling this way when I moved to Leeds, I know that because those people are now my best friends. Today, the only thing holding me back from wearing my favourite outfit is the weather.
