I find it funny when friends who have known me for a really long time refer to me as a "fashionista"...funny because I'm not sure if I really was fashionable at all for a very large portion of my life.
Growing up in Peterborough, Ontario, I was an only child to a single mom. I had good friends, and wore what I thought looked good on me back then. My mother couldn't afford much anyway, and it wasn't exactly a shopping mecca in the small city. I am, in all aspects, a late bloomer when it comes to fashion. I can't say I was one of those kids who wore her mother's pearls, and insisted on wearing scarves in grade 3 because my mom didn't have much of anything while I was growing up, certainly not pearls and scarves. She wasn't someone who kept her old vintage pieces for her daughter...she didn't have the room. We shopped at Biway and I was, for the most part, totally ok with it...I had to be! I remember looking through magazines and just not even recognizing the brand names because they just weren't available to me anywhere within hundreds of kilometers. Imagine Oshawa being our fashion oasis in high school because they actually had a real mall?
I remember the year I realised that my childhood was essentially over. It was Grade 6 and girls and guys were no longer just friends, we were getting hips and other fun body parts and there it was, BAM: self consciousness. Gone was my youthful confidence, and in its place was this overwhelming fear that I might do, say or wear something "wrong". To say "children are cruel" is only half the truth...the other half is that the majority of kids also care too much about what their peers think. Fast forward to high school, and I was still (and possibly even more) shy, body conscious, and socially awkward. I had a couple of great friends, but I think my main problem is that I couldn't do or say anything without worrying what others would think. My high school had a different social structure as well. It was located in a district that was made up of mostly lower class families and public housing, which accounted for the majority of the population. The school was known for its vocational programs-auto shop, floristry and culinary arts. For all these reasons, a very large portion of the students who were considered popular were not the typical upper middle class, above-average grades, super athletic types. They also weren't the types to take any risks in what they wore, and the ones that did were very distinctly categorized (and ostracized) from the "popular" group. I remember buying a few items from the second hand shop downtown and "testing them out" at school...I was made fun of all day for wearing this one shirt. I never wore it again. Which was probably the real issue...because at the end of the day, if I had just worn what I wanted and stopped caring then I probably would have felt so much more comfortable in my skin. I can honestly say the only people I was truly jealous of were the rare kids who seriously just didn't seem to give a s----. They had, for lack of a better word, balls. I'm not saying I was some repressed style icon or anything...I'm saying I do regret the part where I cared...and this feeling continued into my first 2 years of University.
Going to University of Western Ontario is no place for a self-conscious welfare kid, soI don't really know what I was thinking, haha. I didn't really like any of the main fashion trends going on while I was there: Uggs, meshback hats, etc. I started making my own clothing in second year-here and there a new piece, and I began sketching ideas as well. People seemed to like the things I made and I began to finally experiment with my clothing, taking risks and expressing a part of me that I had been protecting...and this time nobody was making fun of it. By the time I moved to Ottawa to go to Carleton, I was finally feeling as though I could wear what I wanted and not care what others thought...and interestingly enough, the less I cared, the more they liked what I wore.
It's been 6 years since I moved to Ottawa, and I really feel like I've come into my own skin. It is really ironic that in the city that is always overlooked for its fashion, I have been able to collect a wardrobe that I really feel fits me and my personal style. I know where I can find a unique item, where I can find great shoes and accessories, where to go for inexpensive vintage pieces and the stores that I can't leave without buying something when I visit. I feel like I make my own rules when it comes to what looks good on me and what I think works with what I already have. I also know so much more about the world of fashion as a whole...and learn so much more each day.
I worry sometimes that this new career I'm trying to develop is one that I should have began 8 years ago, when I was younger and had so many years ahead of me to work on it...but I don't think I would have been capable of doing it back then. I didn't even like how I dressed myself, so how could I have made things for other people? I didn't have that part of me really figured out very well...I hadn't learned that important lesson yet: To be truly fashionable, you need to stop caring so damn much. Of course, I do still care what others think...I'd be lying if I said I didn't, because I certainly don't dress only for myself and I legitimately enjoy a compliment, who doesn't? I think, however, the real test lies in that that last moment before you leave the house to go out, and you've probably put on one too many accessories, or mismatched your shoes to your outfit or are wearing an item that is totally outlandish, and you think, for just one second, "should I be wearing this?"-and then you leave anyway, because you ultimately love what you are wearing-I think that moment right there is, truly, fashion. Over the years, I have come pretty far...and that's one part age, one part experience and one part learned fearlessness. I don't know what took me so long, but I love what I wear 90% of the time and it's sometimes the only thing getting me up and out in the mornings.
My fashion idols are still the individuals who take chances and push limits: Gwen Stefani, Anna Dello Russo, that girl who wore that hat to the party the other night, my girlfriend Erica who wears skull and cross bone necklaces with her cocktail dress. They're the type who won't go to the beach without red lipstick or the movies without knee high boots. They just get "it", and, more importantly, they get themselves. To be fashionable, you need to know yourself and, ultimately, be proud of the person you are. It took me a while, but I'm there now. So yes, I'm wearing this tonight, deal with it...and pass me another bracelet.
xo Amber
