Dressing for no one

I was always a major tomboy until I got to high school, but you’d never believe it now. It wasn’t until I started experimenting with clothing in high school (and convincing myself that being feminine did not make me weak, but that’s a different story) that I realized how much I loved it. 

I mean, now I have a fashion blog on Instagram where I post daily. I’ve had two fashion-centric internships, and you could definitely say it’s something I want to continue pursuing. I don’t wear sweatpants anywhere but my room, and “matching” might as well be my middle name. 

For me, it’s not just about the confidence that comes with looking good, it’s the art behind the stylistic choices that are clever and detail-oriented that make it such a delicious hobby. I love everything about fashion, and it’s such a unique and outward-facing medium of expression that’s simply like no other.

When I first started styling my outfits more, my friends were always completely perplexed. Why was I putting so much effort into this? Why did I care? Who was I trying to impress?

So why does it bother me when people ask me who I’m dressing up for, or what the point is in always looking put together? In high school, I truly used to answer that I’d never know when or if I’d meet Obama, and that I needed to look good in any moment so that when the moment came and I finally got a picture with him, at least I knew that it’d be one I would be proud of sharing. 

While all of this sounds superficial, the “look good, feel good” mentality doesn’t simply help with confidence, because in a weird way, it doesn’t. Dressing nice always puts you in a position where you stand out, and that can be uncomfortable in its own right. 

But this form of art and expression can also be attributed to my desire to maintain at least a sliver of control in every situation. It could be raining, or I could fail a test, but at least I could control how I look. So why does it seem like everyone has such a problem with it? 

My friends in high school would always ask me who I’m dressing up for, as if there had to be a reason. I’m almost always overdressed, and for some reason it seems to make people uncomfortable sometimes.

My boyfriend in high school asked me why I wouldn’t just wear sweatpants to school, and that I was the only girl he’d never seen in sweatpants. My college boyfriend in freshman year got upset that I dressed up for class – after all, why would I be doing this if he wasn’t there? Who was I trying to impress?

The thing is, this is how I found my confidence and my favorite mode of expression when I was maturing as a teenager; matching my belts with my shoes with my earrings makes me happy. There shouldn’t need to be another reason for expressing yourself and doing something that you love. 

There also seems to be a need to strike a balance of control and effortlessness within fashion. As a woman, I shouldn’t attract too much attention, but I also shouldn’t be trying so hard. But in reality, it’s simply not that deep. I think I can enjoy something without it having to be for someone else or to get anyone’s attention; I just really love it and I found myself through style. 

I don’t dress for you, I don’t dress for him or her, and I certainly don’t care if you’re impressed. Fashion is art, and I love painting a vibrant and colorful picture with the pieces I have, which make seemingly endless combinations.

Are you impressed yet?

Melanie Haid is a junior journalism major with minors in German and photography and serves as the News Editor at The Chronicle.