Dress For Yourself

I feel like the world’s biggest hypocrite writing this post. I remember I walked into Urban Outiftters, which I am ashamed to admit is a store I absolutely love, and seeing these gold glitter socks and thinking ohmygod these are stunning. I knew I needed them in my closet so I skipped right down to the cashier and paid for them.

As I was walking back to my apartment, I started thinking about the ways that my style and my honesty about my style had changed. There was a time when I wouldn’t even dream of wearing gold socks- not because I didn’t want to, but because everyone else might think they were too out there.

I shelved the thought, and the next day wore the socks with silver platforms and a grey oversized sweater with ribbed tights underneath it, and felt like the coolest thing since sliced bread.

Every time I remember that outfit, I also remember how a few months ago when I was home over the summer, my mum watched me unpack my things and said pretty simply, ‘I don’t know why you bring some of these things home. You can wear them in America, but not here.’

And here comes the part that feels like hypocrisy.

I talk about style as an art form, as clothing as expressive of our innermost selves, about how loving the process can be to create our armour for each day when we walk in to the world, but I know that I hold myself back from being truly expressive in that way all the time.

I would never wear shorts in Accra, never mind how hot it is- I wore full length pants and a long sleeved shirt to the beach once, don’t @ me.

And that’s just something I struggle with- finding the confidence to wear what I want, but at the same time remain respectful but also not feel guilty for the body I have.

It’s such an odd line, and I keep almost walking up to it.

Maybe one day I’ll have more concrete thoughts about this but until then, I do want to say that each day you walk out your door, if you are intentional about what you’re wearing and feel good in it, that’s a pretty good step into coming to full self acceptance. That’s something that I’ve learned sort of the hard way.

Much love,

Amoafoa.