“Knowing who you really are and dressing the part with an air of amused recklessness is life affirming for you, and life enhancing for others.”
Growing up is a scary thing, but the liberties of fashion seem to make things a little less terrifying. Going into my sophomore year at Columbia University, I am certain of very few things — only my love for family, friends, fashion and New York City emerge as steadfast “defining” characteristics.
While all this vagueness may appear somewhat problematic to my determined peers (and, not surprisingly, to my parents), for the moment, I find it incredibly exciting, as it allows me to transform from one day to the next, until I stumble upon the style predestined as my perfect fit. Immense diversity and vibrant cultures line every street and avenue of New York City, assuring that even my short walk to and from classes is chock full of inspiration.
At a place like Columbia, it would be shameful to declare my style as rigidly as I did my American Studies major. Taking note from the confident swagger of the bustling students around me, some days nothing seems more appropriate than rocking my pair of “look-at-me” over-the-knee Burberry Prorsum biker boots with vintage skinny jeans and a stark white boyfriend tee. Other days, however, I give in to the preppy girl inside of me, and put on my best high-waisted floral skirt and soft-colored cardigan perfectly accessorized with a bedazzled broach from my Grandmother’s priceless collection.
Call me unreliable, but I’m irresponsibly in love with fashion, the freedom of expression it allows, and the happiness it can bring.