The Death of Denim and Dignity

I believe the bravest thing someone could do, in my high school, is wearing jeans. To tell you the truth I haven’t gone a day, this year, without wearing sweats. When I would watch Pretty Little Liars or The OC, jeans were the bare minimum. In those schools, girls were wearing skirts and peplum tops, again this was the early 2000’s, but still what happened to fashion in school?

When I was in middle school, my number one question I would ask high schoolers was, “do people wear jeans?” I was desperate to wear something other than a Brandy Melville sweatsuit. I guess it was always an unspoken rule, to never express yourself. One year, I decided that I was going to go the mile, for St. Patricks day, so I showed up in neon green, flared pants. I couldn’t walk down the hallway without drawing stares. After that day, I vowed, to myself, that I will not wear anything but hoodies and sweatpants, of neutral colors.

I complain, yet I’m just as much a follower as the others. Then I think to myself, is it worth people starring and possibly talking about you, or at least thinking they are? I always say, I assimilate to make my life easier. But what if it’s not the life I’m supposed to live?

It’s not just clothes, truly, it’s every public aspect of my being. The words I say aloud, my hair, even the music on my playlist, all is filtered for the public view. Sometimes I do it without realizing it, like when I don’t bring ethnic food for lunch because I don’t want people to not recognize the food I’m putting into my body. It sounds stupid when I think about it, but it’s become my subconscious, I can’t help it. Again, I blame the shows; I thought the only way one could be “weird” in high school was if they had glasses and wore overalls. Since this isn’t Not Another Teen Movie, it’s just division 2, upper middle class high school and breathing is weird. But how did it come to this, a silent dictador watching over everyone?

Every school has the few people they idolize, whether it be fashion or intelligence you, in a way, you want to be them. They usually have a big, definitive friend group. They’re nice to you, but you know it will never be more than that because you haven’t been friends since you had pampers. It almost felt like an accomplishment if you had the same shirt or hoodie as one of them, it was as if they approved your outfit. It’s funny because I barely talk to these people and honestly I don't want to be friends with them. It’s like survival. You do it to stay under the radar and just live.

It’s putting a lot of pressure on my college wardrobe. I expect myself walking about campus in boot legged jeans, a button up blouse, and honestly, some type of clog. As I sit and fantasize about my college style, I’m wearing beige Garage sweats and a Nike hoodie. Even though I’m aware of my weakness, I’ll continue to ignore it. Fashion’s gone and so is my dignity, but at least I go unrecognized in the hallway.