No one who knows me would call me a fashionable dresser. Even before the pandemic, I was not the kind of person who followed fashion and wore the latest styles, or even aimed for a particular style at all. I like to wear nice quality clothes, but comfort has always been paramount, from soft fabric to relaxed shoes. Since I left a big corporation in my early 30s, I haven’t had to dress formally for work since.
After that, I liked to dress nicely, and at times, more formally for client meetings, but my day-to-day work style was mainly soft cotton or linen blouses; cotton, wool or second-hand cashmere sweaters/jumpers along with relaxed denim and floral skirts or jeans and always flat shoes. No suits with shoulder pads or high heels, no corporate bow-tie dress for success wardrobe.
That left me deciding on my own what was appropriate for various situations. When I needed something, I chose from what I found in the local boutiques, and passively kept my eyes on what other women in my suburban community were wearing. Clothes were purpose driven: I had my work clothes, old jeans and oversized shirts for chores around the house and garden, comfy dresses for relaxed social activities with friends similar to what I wore to work, and very rarely, an event to get dressed up for.
I was doing fine with my clothing choices and general ‘style’ until I moved to the UK, and since then I have struggled to figure out what to wear. When I moved, all my previous norms and roles were stripped away. I didn’t go to an office for work, I was no longer a parent going to school-related activities and social events, each with their somewhat predictable and known ‘uniforms’. Initially I was going to be a “mature student’ surrounded by 20-year-olds, and a partner of an academic at a University. Most jarringly, I was in a new country with a very different climate than I was used to.
As I packed up two suitcases of clothes before I left California, I picked up one thing after another and wondered if it would suit my two new roles. I knew Europeans generally dress up a bit more than in California, but what on earth did people in my new country wear? Would this flared denim skirt suit a student going back to school? Does this button down shirt reflect the friendly partner of an academic lecturing at a University?
What about all that rain? I bought a new handmade purple raincoat from Seattle, hoping that the dashes of colour embedded in the trim would bring me joy on the many expected wet, grey days. (It was eventually replaced by a bright fuschia walking jacket).
The first few years after we moved to Plymouth and I worked in the city centre, I rarely saw women dressing in a way I might aspire to. Most of the women I saw were much younger and/or dressed in a style that I had no intention of mimicking: high heels on cobblestones with skin-tight dresses was never my style.
At first, I associated my struggle with the drastic change in climate. That certainly was part of it. But perhaps the struggle signifies more about my ongoing internal struggle to identify who I am in this other place, as there are no clear, current 'authentic me' roles to hang my wardrobe on anymore.
This topic of clothing came up after reading a recent post by my lovely writer-friend Prue Batten. The post mentioned a suggestion that we should dress in the clothes that reflect our truest selves. This of course begs the question of what IS our truest self? Do you know? And if by chance you do know, how do you dress to suit it?
What would my ‘authentic self’ wear? I am no longer a mature student, or the partner of an academic lecturing at a University. Now, like many people, we work from home and have no need to dress up on a regular basis. My activities consist of working at my desk, pottering in the garden, cooking, taking daily walks, working out, and periodic socialising. When we travel to the US several times a year, or elsewhere, we take a small selection of clothes curated for travel, planned activities, and the destination climate. Reasonable quality clothes last a fairly long time, so there is little need to shop much anymore.
When I pulled out my warmer weather clothes this last week I was struck by how bright and colourful they are. They mostly reflect my 'old me' clothes, my California clothes, and the ones I am happiest in. But of course I need the warmer weather in order to be comfortable in them. Maybe that is a clue?
I am most comfortable when I am in a warm climate and am wearing a summer shift dress that is made of a soft, pretty print fabric, and worn with flip flops or comfy sandals. I also love being in shorts and a tank top working in the garden or walking. For a few months, weeks, days a year I can do that here in the UK.
But I still have many questions:
If we have a style, does moving away from where you have lived cause it to disappear or change?
Are the people we think we are actually the roles we filled during our lives?
If we have different roles now, is that who we are?
Is who we are based in part on where we live, or what stage of life we are in?
Or something else entirely?
I’ll finish with this timely little quotation I saw in the Guardian this morning. Maybe this is another of the clues to wearing your authentic self! Sewing one’s own clothes has been transformative for many people, and it has been a periodic joy for me, but it is not a significant option for me to clothe myself fully!
“Kathryn Wheeler had not sewn anything since her GCSE textiles classes, but she decided that did not matter: she would be making her own wedding dress from scratch…..‘Sewn into that dress were all my positive qualities: my vision, determination and resourcefulness,’ she writes. ‘But it also held my flaws: impulsivity, stubbornness and a self-critical nature. Choosing to wear it was a lesson on the transformative value of embodying your entire, true self.’”
Now I have questions for you all!
Do you think our clothes reflect our best selves?
What do you wear when you are most comfortable and feel most yourself?
Is who you are based on where you live or what stage of life you are in?
If you have different roles in your life, is that who you are?
I’d love to hear anything else that these questions bring up for you!
Thank you as ever for reading! I always appreciate your time and presence here. See you next week!
xx Sabrina
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My daughter is a fashionista so I always ask myself, "What would Kat say/wear/do?" This provides a lot of guidance and when we're together I ask her to be my fashion consultant and personal shopper. My husband serves the same purpose (in addition to many others). Kat helped me buy my first pair of overly baggy pants with frayed cuffs. When that fashion first came out, I swore I would never ever buy them. Ever. But I did. Then I bought another pair. I like them. But I still wear my skinny jeans even though they are out of style Kat gently tells me.
It struck me recently that I don't wait to go back to the states to buy clothes or shoes. I purchase them in Spain because I see what people wear on the street everyday. I wonder if that helps me fit in a little more. Or at least people might think I belong there even if they know instantly I'm American. Perhaps it makes me think and look like I'm more culturally knowledgeable.
I place most importance on being flexible, open to trying new things, and free to change my mind when it comes to my wardrobe and how I want to dress to be me. There are many facets of me and my wardrobe should express that.
Lovely post, Sabrina!
I have always struggled with clothing, and remember being bullied as a child for my clothes. What I looked like didn't ever feel important - as long as what I was wearing was comfortable (because it's the law) and practical (for cleaning out the chicken run, digging potatoes, climbing trees, making mud pies), well, that was enough! Even today I can't bear clothes which aren't comfy - I resist buying anything new, and wear things until holes become visible - and even then I won't throw those clothes away, but wear them for gardening, or for my casual job, or under a jumper (!). I recently noticed a hole in one of my two (only two!) woolly jumpers, which upset me because it's so new. New? Hmmm. In fact I'd bought it the Christmas before the Christmas we first hosted Christmas, which was the Christmas before Covid hit. Yup, I've had it YEARS.....
We've just got back from a work trip and a large proportion of my small wardrobe is still in the wash. Today I'm dressed VERY smartly (for me) in my newest (and therefore not yet saggy) pair of walking trousers and a man's orange and white shirt from a vintage clothing charity shop which had cost me a fiver longer ago than that holey jumper. A rare day on which I feel both comfortable AND presentable! 🤣