Fashion has become my life – and I’m not talking about runways, designers, or labels. I don’t use fashion as a form of elitism, or as a tool to make others feel ugly and inferior. I use it as an art of expression, to escape, and as a weapon.
Fashion allows me to portray the characters within myself, because, to me, identity is not a singular entity, but rather something that is limitless. Some days I’m an IDGAF-rebel who loiters near ‘No Loitering’ signs, gives a fake name to a substitute teacher, posts on someone’s open Facebook and calls it hacking, and shakes up a liter of soda and then gives it to an unsuspecting/thirsty child. Other days I’m the bougiest queen in town who can’t be bothered.com, and couldn’t care what even Jesus herself thinks.
What I’m trying to say is that I’m constantly changing. I refuse to accept one personality, one attitude, one Jayson, because I’d only be cheating myself out of a wondrous, life-long adventure. I always say, ‘Get to know yourselves. They’re probably way more interesting than everyone else.”
Beyond allowing me to get to know myself, fashion allows me to escape and fight back at the most challenging aspects of life. Fashion lets me flee from the depression, fear of abandonment, rejection, and general confusion about this thing called life. It’s hard to care about that boy who didn’t text you back when you are LIVING for yourself in the mirror with your drop dead gorgeous new look. When you look good, you feel good.
Best believe, even in the midst of bouts with depression, the world will never catch me looking ugly. No Mary! In time, the benefits of look good-feel good start to mollywop the pain right out of my life.
And that’s exactly how fashion is my weapon. First, I escape, let myself feel shitty, then I start making myself look fierce; it’s like crafting a whole new identity, one that doesn’t care about the bruises of the past. Fashion is both the method of my escape and the means by which I return.
Fashion is NOT a way for me to impress other people (not that I’m opposed to twisting a few necks as people try to catch me walking by). Nor is it an indication of how shallow, self-absorbed, or vain I am. I know why I dress the way I do, and what fashion means to me, but I’m ever curious about what this abstract term means to others. Please comment below and share your thoughts. I mean, you’ve already invested your time reading, so you might as well just comment too.