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Your lifestyle, your quirk
Where to begin? After being swaddled in all manner of adorable things like a set of pink Oshkosh B’Gosh overalls (be jealous, any toddlers reading this!) and dressed in uniforms throughout most of elementary school, my personal style development came a little later. Starting in sixth grade, I began to get more fashion conscious. By this, I mean I started rocking the look of junior high students everywhere, which at Barboursville Middle School meant super flared jeans, stick-straight hair with one strand pulled down if you wore a ponytail, and studded belts. Easily the best look I’ve ever had.
But the golden years don’t always last, so once I discovered I didn’t have the energy to flat iron my hair for 30 minutes every day, this look became unfeasible. In addition, I got to look at photos taken a few short months prior and declare them stupid.
I then began pulling an allowance and started listening to that sinful rock and roll music. Since I still liked simpler designs of white button-downs and solid colored pullovers, my leisure wear during early high school years could best be described as Ozzy Osbourne goes to a J.Crew photo shoot. If you’re thinking, “Well there’s a girl who doesn’t have a clear idea of what the hell she wants to do, but doesn’t seem to care,” then I would have said stop reading my journal. When I wasn’t wearing black chokers and argyle, I was content to relax in sweats or jeans.
That casual look got the best of me a lot in college, especially since the idea of being able to roll out of my loft and be at class in ten minutes mostly became a daily reality. Comfort has always been a big motivator for me as well; even as a kid, I asked my mom to cut out all shirt tags because I deemed them too itchy. I was also usually going to rugby practice, so gym shorts and cutoffs just seemed to make sense.
Now, I’ve always loved vintage stuff. I swear I’m not a hipster, but my record player actually sees some action on a regular basis and when apartment searching I look for exposed brick walls accompanied by old architecture. Since I went to school at Ohio University in Athens, Ohio, I was exposed to an uptown scene rife with thrift and vintage clothing stores. So you can probably guess what has ended up happening.
I still get to indulge my clean line fetishes when purchasing work clothes from Express, or even White House Black Market when I feel like spending more money than I have. However, working older/boho clothes into an adult wardrobe isn’t all that difficult, so now you can probably find me walking down the street in straight leg dark wash jeans, a heather gray t-shirt, and a cardigan with sewn-in elbow patches. It’s a pretty direct reflection of who I am: straightforward, modest, and all about comfort. I think tradition in many respects is actually innovative, and what better way to pay homage to that mentality than with the outer expression of clothing?