I put on this shirt with my straight-leg Levi's and looked in the mirror and felt so much like myself, I had a physical sensation. And I was also very unsure if I should go out like this, unsure if I should wear a shirt that has Colorado on it. My upbringing there was abusive and painful so I’d divorced myself from the place, but you can't cut out where you came from. It doesn’t work. I tried. You have to put your arms around your whole story, whatever it is.
I was recently in Denver at the airport, heading back to New York, and I saw a bunch of shirts on a table. I was drawn to them, a little embarrassed for myself that I was even considering buying one, but I also felt like “it’s about time, you’re from here, quit pushing it away”, and I wanted to lay claim. And it was very soft cotton and I liked the graphic. As I stared in the mirror, should I wear the Colorado shirt was one question, and why don’t I just put on my cowboy boots and lean into it, was the other. Where we come from, where we grew up and how we grew up, effects the way we dress, and in many ways it defines our style. I think choices we make once we reach our adult-sized bodies, no matter our age, carry over for a long time. (Of course, some people do entirely reinvent themselves and their look later in life, but I think that’s rare.) The first pieces we put on that make us feel like ourselves have a powerful imprint, as powerful as the first boyfriend or girlfriend. I grew up in Levi's 501s. I feel at home in jeans. For most of my life I’ve been sorting through my past… it’s been a difficult nut to crack, to absorb and accept. I’ve written a lot about it. And as I’ve taken up sewing again the past few years, and been noticing my own impulses toward and away from clothing, it strikes me how tied to my history it all is. "Dressing up", which I love to do, is not inherently safe, it draws attention. As a girl that kind of attention, noticing me, my body, my sexuality, was frightening. In addition to the fears that had grown up inside me from my circumstances, I got all kinds of unsolicited comments from men and women, challenging me, being provocative, men being aggressive. So a big part of me wanted to hide, and another part wanted to stand up straight and wear what I wanted, but the two things have been at war most of life. “Are you going to wear that…?!” Now I will put on something I love that makes a statement, and I’ll have that beat in front of the mirror, should I wear this? Of course, every time this happens to me, I don’t tie it all the way back to my history, but it’s there in the room in those moments of questioning what I really want to project -- confidence and sensuality or something quieter and less noticeable. It can feel quite unsettling and at times I have taken off the clothes and put on something simpler. There’s a risk to being your real self, and clothing is a part of that self. As I was alienated from myself at a young age, growing up in a home where confusion reigned and I didn't know if I could trust my own impulses and instincts, a lot of time has been spent in adulthood finding my way back to the best parts of myself. I think my desire to make my own clothes, on the one hand is a desire to get closer to beauty with fabric and design and to be creative, but on the other hand a big part of it is to get closer to the girl/woman that I am, separate from the layers of conflict and fear and pain. I don’t think anyone can ever entirely "get past your past”, I don’t think you should. I do think there is great deal of healing in creating a wardrobe that you love, because you are healing parts of you you may not have even known needed it. The creativity of making my own clothes and dressing myself in a way that feels right to me is powerful and challenging. And in this case, the Colorado t shirt and Levi's are it. |
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January 2025
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