Losing Yourself
Fashion and I have been friends since a young age. I became more aware of its presence during my teenage years, and since then it has been something I think about almost daily.
I began paying closer attention to what I was wearing. Most of the time, however, I realised I was emulating someone who was not me. I wore things that someone else had decided for me, while admiring adults in my family collecting American All-Stars or Italian-cut tailored suits.
At that time, my grandmothers gave me some incredible vintage garments. Looking back now, I realise they were not simply gifts. They were silent gestures — an intergenerational exchange, one of the closest things to representing time and its passing.
Every time I wear those pieces, I feel unique. They feel different from the clothes I once wore simply because everyone else had them. For many years I followed trends without questioning them.
Fashion helped me understand who I wanted to be in different moments of my life. Through clothing, I could recognise how I felt and how I wished to present myself to the world.
Yet today I find myself struggling with this relationship.
My clothes no longer represent me in the way they once did, even though they align with the values I support. If I were to describe myself through what is currently in my wardrobe, the result would appear coherent with my beliefs and commitments. At the same time, however, it feels as though I no longer know how to express myself.
Is this what fashion is?
Is it pure expressionism?
Perhaps fashion is a vehicle through which we examine and communicate our cultural and personal values. It becomes the tone through which we decide to live our lives.
Today I am surrounded by clothes, yet I feel lost. I struggle to define my style. Who am I through what I wear?
Despite my body remaining unchanged, nothing seems to reflect who I truly am.
Why is it that I have nothing to wear?
For several years I have only purchased clothing from charity shops or second-hand online platforms. I keep only the pieces I truly wear and donate the rest. I have never purchased from large multi-brand online retailers, and in the past five years I have bought only a handful of new garments.
Most of my wardrobe is composed of pieces discovered while sorting through my late grandmother’s belongings, or items passed on by my sister during one of her decluttering phases.
All these garments were previously owned by someone else. They now fill my closet and, in many ways, make up a significant part of who I am. Yet at times I still feel lost within this sea of pieces that were not originally mine.
