through the years

I think it’s interesting to look back on what I wore throughout the years to find that nothing has really changed. We have all seen it in media, you bring your partner home only to have your parents pull out the ‘embarrassing pictures’. Is this how people truly feel? For me, it has always been something I’m proud and excited to share.

I mean, how could I not be?

They capture times that made me who I am today. The days where I giggled and the days where I would throw a
‘berrinche’ — tantrum — like my Mamá would say. Those days were spent screaming, shouting, and rolling around my bed because my favorite skirt was being washed.

It was plaid with a thin elastic waist band. The white horizontal stripes stood out while the red and blue, from a distance, looked purple brown. It wasn’t the cute pink skirt little girls would wear. It was a bit different, a little weird, but I didn’t care because Mamá made it for me. I wore it every day and laundry day was the worst day of my life.

Even my ‘special occasion’ dress, that made me look like a fried egg, became a regular. There’s video evidence of me begging Mamá to let me wear it but of course, it was laundry day.

It’s hard to believe that my style and how I think about what I wear hasn’t changed. I’d like to think it’s because Mamá reminds me that fashion is something personal and practical. Something people will try to strip me of but I guard because it’s part of me. It’s personal, I wear it for me and no one else. I get to post my outfits on social media but I don’t have to say anything, because my outfit does the shouting. People probably don’t think much beyond “oh that’s cute” or “omfg wtf is she wearing” when I post my outfits. It’s refreshing. Subtlety is my expertise, I can be vulnerable and wear clothes that hold meaning, show it to the world and no one notices.

Just like a song that reminds you of certain parts of your life, the emo phase in high school or the ‘I want to be unique and listen to indie bands no one knows about’, clothes do the same thing for me. I have past memories with my clothes and I have the freedom to make new memories by changing the way I wear them. Just like a song you can replay over and over, I’ve learned to take care of my clothes and mend them if need be. I am always finding a way to keep them with me, to give them a purpose.

If you’re wondering, yes, I still have clothes that I wear regularly and though I don’t throw a berrinche when they need to be washed I do schedule laundry days with them in mind.

My all-time favorites include a 3/4 sleeve striped shirt with a low back, loose fit and always tucked in, a mustard A- Line skirt that sits on my waist, the only mini skirt I own, and white Pumas that have my birthday engraved on them.

I thrifted this shirt about three years ago. I consider stripes neutral, which gives me the freedom to wear it with other patterns. The sleeves are perfect for all the seasons. The neckline shows off my collarbone and it’s narrow enough so it doesn’t slide off my shoulder. It’s a size too big which is perfect for tucking it in. I’ve even gone clubbing in it more than once, a true ride or die.

This skirt and I have been together for seven years. I bought this while browsing PacSun when I was in college. It was not on sale, which is why I got it in one color - slight regret. The elastic waist band is thin and doesn’t fold. The front and back stitches that create the A-line aren’t in the middle - huge pet peeve - and makes the skirt flow effortlessly. It hits above the knee but doesn’t fly up with a gust of wind. Though I would have bought it in all the colors, had it been on sale, I’m happy with the mustard yellow. In a weird way I think it matches my personality.

It’s been a year and a half since I got these babies. They are an example of how I can be subtle and vulnerable. I remember when I first got them I wanted them to be clean all the time, so much so that I never wore them. That changed when I found myself wanting to wear them every day but settling for something else. I want to get another pair since they were really hard to find in my size and I low-key want to get an extra for display.

My favorite part? When they fall apart and I can’t wear them anymore, I can take the little plaques and make something new.

Being yourself is something a lot of people struggle with, especially when you’re outside and you feel like all eyes are on you. It’s something I had to keep telling myself, over and over again.

I moved to the US when I was 9. An age when, according to my classmates, I was supposed to use deodorant and toss out my barbie backpack. I didn’t though, I didn’t change anything about myself. Mostly because I didn’t understand English but also because I found everyone was wearing the same thing and it was boring. I was a bit different, a little weird, not just because I was the only Latina in my class but because I wasn’t afraid to be a child.

Did people make fun of me for layering my dresses, pairing socks with sandals and wearing my jeans and skirts at my waist when low-rise jeans were trending?

Yes, yes, they did.

My Mamá has reminded me every day that what I want to wear is personal and doesn’t need to change because of other people’s opinions.

It’s not about keeping up with the latest trends because at the end of the day you’re going to end up in front of your closet, thirty minutes before you have to be somewhere, asking yourself why you have nothing to wear.

gracias mamá