Fashion & Identity : Sacrificing the Woman that Looks Good to Others for the One that Looks Good to Me
Written By Monique Johnson
A time for everything. There is a time for everything and a season for every activity. A time to plant and a time to uproot. A time to tear down and a time to build. A time to search and a time to give up. A time to be silent and a time to speak. There is a time to love; a time to hate. A time to go shopping and a time to stop using racking up those Klarna purchases. There a time for everything.
Before I dive in, I want to introduce myself. I’m Monique. I’m originally from a small city in Louisiana, and I moved to New York this summer to work in the fashion industry.
We all heard the story, right? Small town girl moves to the big city and never has a baby hair out of place. That isn’t this type of story. When I read “fashion” blogs, it’s usually someone trying to tell me what to wear and why I should wear this item. It’s usually a $500 pair of boots paired with a $800 wig and designer wool coat that says, “price upon request”. Working in the fashion industry isn’t always glitz and glam. I didn’t always know that going in, the industry calls for a lot of long hours and little pay. There were days where I wore the same pair of shoes for three months because it was the only designer item I owned at the time. It took a toll on me, and I always felt the pressure of never being caught “off guard”. If a hair was out of place or I didn’t have a freshly done manicure, it directly affected my mental health. When I first moved to the big city, I had these expectations that I would have a killer new wardrobe, tons of skincare products, and hair appointments every other week to make sure my hair wasn’t unkempt. I thought that the clothing I wore was a direct reflection of how I should be approached, adored and loved. When I couldn’t dress up, or if I wore the same pair of jeans twice, I shut down. I thought to myself, “why am I not the girl I thought I’d be in the city? Why don’t I dress like her?” As I climbed new heights in my career, I noticed my individuality was decreasing. I bargain shopped for pieces that made me look like my coworkers. More than anything, I wanted to fit in. Let’s be honest, we never shake the feeling of wanting to belong.
If you live in New York City and you’re a typical millennial like me, the city has a way of reminding you how poor you are. My favorite thing to do is walk into Chanel and “shop” for handbags knowing I only have enough for a turkey sandwich. I aspire to have one Chanel purse one day, because at the end of the day I still want nice things. I just won’t allow whether I have this item or look this way to define me anymore. I don’t want to live a life where my relationships are directly affected by my appearance.
I put a lot of clothes in boxes when I moved up for donation. It wasn’t until I started digging through these boxes that I realized I never hated these clothes. I just didn’t want to wear them because my ex-boyfriend didn’t like my jeans, or I wore those pants to the office already. That’s when it hit me—the last time I dressed for me was when I was a child. This world will shape, define and silence you if you let it. Don’t! Wear that pair of pants that your man hates! Wear that dress you love but posted on Instagram 3 times too many! Wear coat that you look waaay to bougie in! Be extra! Be basic! Be whatever you want to be because at the end of the day, you are your toughest critic (Anna and Andre are a close second).
My favorite piece in my closet would be my tan trench coat. I’ve had this dream of being in New York City since I was about 9 years old. I glanced at a similar trench in a JCPENNEY magazine, and I knew that was the jacket I’d be rocking in adulthood. It holds weight. If it’s fall or winter, you will find me in this coat.
I went into this topic wanting to write something that I’d wish I heard sooner. I wish I knew I was still worth that man’s time and affection when my 4C edges weren’t slicked back. I wish I knew how to stand upright with my tote bag from Target among a group of colleagues with Chanel bags. I wish I could approach a man with the same amount of confidence as I do when I have a fresh set of nails and toes. I wish I knew all these things… but now I do. The word “self-love” is thrown around a lot, but it really is our greatest and rarest accessory. The way I look at fashion is that it’s an extension of you.
There is a time for everything. There is a time to love; a time to hate. This is the time for love. Fall is the season of change. I’m embracing who I am. I’m sacrificing the woman that looks good to others for the one that looks good to me. I want you to do that as well. After you read this article, I want you to think of your favorite piece of clothing that you haven’t worn in a while— everyone has one and I want you to SLAY that item as if you and Naomi are stunting on the catwalk.
As the leaves fall and the temperatures drop, remember that you’re worth it on the days you looked like Beyoncé during Homecoming, but more importantly the days you binge watch it. You are worth it!
