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Confessions of a fashion victim
by Pamela Wall
Pam says these are the only shoes you will ever need
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If a fashionista is the epitome of style and
all-around fabulousness, I am most definitely the polar opposite.
I am not a sorority girl—girls best known for
their fashion sense—seeing
as no sorority would have me anyway. I do not wear Uggs or Sevens or
designer anything. When people talk about wearing brand-name clothes,
I look down at my Converse sneakers, the only brand I have ever owned.
I feel like I’m having a cute day when I wear one of the unique
T-shirts I bought online. I feel like I’m going overboard the
days I actually put on eyeliner and straighten my hair. And when I wear
any non-denim pants or—dare I say?—skirts…well, that’s
just a sign of the apocalypse.
 Pam
(top) says that this was not one of her better days. But the photo
above shows her with make-up (she even attempts to style her hair).
And the picture at left shows her in an off-the-rack dress that "might
actualy pass for fashion sense."
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Most of the time, I revel in my lack of style.
I usually enjoy my worn-out jeans and pseudo-vintage band tees. I
adore a black zip-up hoodie about as much as I adore my Izzone tee…which
doesn’t
help my fashion case at all. But there are days when I wish I could
be one of those
girls. The ones who look great in class everyday. The ones who
are coordinated and classy and chic. The ones with their glossy hair,
curled eyelashes behind oversized sunglasses, painfully adorable—and,
I can only assume, painfully painful—pointy-toed shoes and overall
too-cute-for-school looks. I hate those girls…and when I say “hate,” I
mean “want to be”…sometimes.
But therein lies the rub: when I dress like
that, when I put on the nice clothes and the cute shoes—and
yes, I do happen to own a few pieces that fit into these categories—I
feel like a fraud. And no matter how much I know logically the ensemble
is working for me, the entire time I am longing to slip back into
my Kohl’s jeans
and my Kermit the Frog tee. I wish I could be a fashionista, but anything
but my not-so-fashionable “style” just feels like playing
dress-up on Halloween.
I think style really is subjective. “Fashion,” as
it were, is more concretely defined: there are some looks that any designer
or fashion-forward person will take one look at and say “Oh, hell
no!” But style is far more personal. It is one’s outward
expression of his or her inner feelings. So for all the fabulous people
on campus, for all the gorgeous sorority girls in their leggings and
ballet flats, their style shows their dedication to good first impressions
and better second glances, to going with the flow and fitting in. But
as for this fashion don’t, my style tells everyone I really don’t
care about what they consider in style and I don’t really care
if my look is appealing to anyone—I only care about living life
as comfortably and painlessly as possible. If that means forgoing high-heeled
and high-priced Manolo Blahniks for comfortable, cheap Converse, then
so be it. I’d rather be a fashion don’t and feel like I’m
staying true to myself than a fashion do who doesn’t know who
she is.
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