Julie

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Fashionably Late Bloomer

Fashionably Late Bloomer

My story on learning to speak the language of clothes


When I was in elementary school, what I wore to class wasn’t exactly my choice. I wore whatever my mom bought and whatever felt comfortable. Clothes were all about function.

My mom shopped with purpose because clothes were a luxury meant to do a job. If it could keep me warm and cover the important stuff, it was good. If it was affordable, it was perfect. 

I was too young to truly understand the language of clothes, that what I wore was reflective of my desirability. I learned that lesson the hard way, when the girls at school teased my appearance. 

All the cool girls wore jeans. I was clothed in cotton pants, decorated with prints and bright colors. 

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Thinking about it now, I probably could’ve passed for a young hippie. You could say that I was ahead of the times and very fashion forward. If I had gone to grade school in 2010, I would’ve been a hipster. In reality, I was fashionably late to the “in-crowd” scene. 

When the girls in my class made fun of me for not wearing jeans, I felt lost. Asking my mom for jeans would betray our mutual love of soft cotton and fun patterns. But it was time to put my big girl pants on and denim would make help me make that statement.

It was a defining point in my life, transitioning from comfortable girl to a young lady. I can’t really say if it was forced or natural. 

Initially, the growing pains really damaged the way I saw the world. I had felt so disappointed in myself for for wanting to conform. I didn’t want to ask for anything. Clothes cost money, and I was raised to think George Washington’s face was just as valuable as Ben Franklin’s on green paper.

I grew up as a bargain shopper and I embrace my roots. Every trip to the department store had been filled with adventure. Do you remember —how as children, we could fit in the middle of the round clothing racks? It was always the best place to play hide and seek. My sister and I could entertain ourselves for hours while our mom tried to find the best deals. 

While I was hiding, I would take my sweet time and pretend that the whole store was my closet. A place free of dollar signs and discount ads. My mind could wander off into the land of magical tulle, shiny satin, and silent mannequins who spoke of beauty and grace.

Could I be one of them?

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For a short time I had thought that fitting into the right group seemed as simplistic as wearing the prettiest top in your closet. At that time, it was bedazzled and probably came from Justice or Limited Too (I give you permission to cringe). Anyhow, I thought it should be just that effortless. Put on the shirt and you will be desirable, just like Cinderella’s glass slippers.

Whether it’s glass slippers or jeans, buying the right clothes doesn’t necessarily make you fit in.

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It was around middle school when I realized that sometimes I liked what people wore more than I liked them. After all, Cinderella’s stepsisters looked pretty posh and they were kind of trolls. I learned that I would rather be proud in my favorite clothes than cower in a kingdom of uniformity. It’s a strange feeling, to realize that fashion and style can be a façade.

People can design whatever story they want to tell with the clothes on their bodies. Clothes can fool you into thinking that beauty and goodness are cut from the same cloth. It may be deceptive but I find it magical. Every outfit is a different personality.

I am in love with the way clothes can mislead or reveal who a person is deep down, but only at a glimpse. 

When I craft an outfit, I feel like I’m getting ready to play a new role. Style doesn’t have to be singular or monotonous.

Some days, I wake up and think about how much fun it would be to have an adventure that suits someone else’s life better than my own. What could I do or where could I go while wearing a pair of shoes that break my usual mold? It’s sort of like the saying: dress for the life or the job you want. Maybe I don’t need a lifetime or a career. Sometimes, all I want is to have twenty-four hours of playing pretend. So I dress for the occasion!

As children, we would pretend to be adults. As an adult, I pretend to be whoever I want to be. The best part of being able to pick your own clothes is also being able to choose what your clothes say to the world.


Here are some of the personalities I think of when I choose an outfit for the day!

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