What If My Personal Style Is A Big Lie?
And what if I'm finally OK with that?
I first wrote this piece back in December, and couldn’t bring myself to finish it. But, after reading this lovely piece from my friend Maura about quitting the personal style industrial complex, whoosh here we are again trying to finish the things we started!
I used to think it was the highest compliment when a friend would send me a shopping link followed by the words “this is so you.” To someone who finds getting dressed exciting, there’s a rush in feeling like the lens through which you see the world is finally understood by someone else.
Writing this, I’m wearing a pair of Sporty & Rich apple green sweatpants and a purple Nike sweatshirt with bleach stains and “Just Do It” splashed across the front with equal verve. My socks are bright pink. I look more like Barney the Dinosaur than the “me” I envision in my head.
Why share, you ask? This is a place to talk about personal style, dressing thoughtfully, and embracing trends in a way that’s reflective of morals and budgets and all that good stuff.
But, honestly I’m feeling a little bothered by all of it. Since the pandemic, and quitting my full time job, and sliding squarely into my thirties, my personal style has started to feel so much messier. While I spend all day lounging about in something comfy, I finally transform at 6pm — fancy Aemilia begins to emerge from the shell of who I’ve been all day long.
So who am I really? Am I sweatpants Aemilia or trousers Aemilia? Am I just the version of myself that makes it onto Instagram for others to see? What does any of this really matter?
It matters to me in a sense because I care about the way that I express myself (or maybe present myself) as I stalk my way through the world. I do think there’s space to care about the way we look, and to observe the ways in which we evolve over time. But, lest we fall victim to the *personal style industrial complex,* that doesn’t have to mean assigning three words to represent my entire being (I already tried it way back in 2021, pre-Allison Bornstein) and sticking to them (yeah, that failed).
Why do so many of us feel like we’ve lost track of our personal style?
Last year, my friend Tyler kicked off an Instagram series as a way to hold herself accountable as she tried to break out of a personal style rut. It’s nice to know I’m not alone in feeling a little lost. I can chalk it up to getting older or changes in the way I work, but it’s also because social media is designed to peddle solutions to the issues it creates. I don’t need my color season or kibbe body type to know what feels good when I wear it.
I think we’ve (or at least I’ve) been trained for so long to give bits away of myself to the internet, that I’ve bought a little too hard into the feedback loop that comes along with that. As I’ve cared less about curating or defining my personal style, I’ve also started to feel more invisible. Coming to terms with that isn’t always easy. But, caring less also leaves so much more room to have fun and not take things so seriously.
There’s a place to challenge ourselves to be a little more purposeful, but there’s also a place to look in the mirror and gently scream “snap out of it” when it’s taking up more mental real estate than it should. It’s ok to sometimes go about life in an unremarkable outfit, there are plenty of people who do so without thinking twice about it!
My friend Nikki via Maura’s post: personal style is not a trend, and its not that deep!
I’ve been circling on all of this for a while — via my diatribe on the freedom of wearing weird things on vacation, or past feelings around going to fashion week when I no longer have a flashy job title. I’ve always felt like getting dressed comes from your gut — you wake up and put on whatever makes you feel good on that given day. If that’s all personal style is, then I think I’ll be ok.
Loved this read, Aemilia!