The Kid with the Pleated Skirt
On wearing clothes and being seen by others
A few weeks ago a kid in their late teens or very early 20s came into my shop. The kid was masculine presenting, their hair long and tousled. They wore a short white pleated vintage skirt with a hugely oversized black leather bomber jacket zipped up, and a pair of combat boots with undone laces. The kid’s style looked haphazard but it was still somehow strangely intentional. There was nothing pretentious about it. I complimented them on their look, and we discussed personal style for a little while. The kid talked about how there’s pressure to dress “cool” in a big city, and how sometimes when people try too hard, clothes end up looking more like a costume than a representation of a person’s identity. We talked about the fine line between the person and their clothes, and how the wearer never has true autonomy over their clothes. As individualistic as our societies are becoming, the wearer is always both a subject and an object.
My encounter with the kid has lingered in my mind. When I was that age, I didn’t have adventurous style. I was way too scared to be noticed, to stand out from the crowd. Even now (I am 45) I sometimes wonder if I might just look a little ridiculous in what I’m wearing. I don’t lose sleep over what others might think of my clothes, but I’d be lying if I said that the thought never crosses my mind. It’s an empowering idea to think that we get dressed just for ourselves, but we don’t live in a vacuum. Wearing clothes is a social act, and it has been, for millennia.
We have always used clothes to communicate things like gender, age, wealth, and profession. Clothing is a social contract, and all social contracts come with a pecking order. (I wonder if this is why the concepts of ‘stealth wealth’ and ‘quiet luxury’ are so fascinating to many right now. We are intrigued when seemingly plain clothes signal big money and power.) Modern dress codes, some unspoken, others very detailed and carefully laid out, offer us guidance to present ourselves appropriately in our everyday lives, at important events, the workplace, and abroad. Our clothing gives us a place in society. We wear clothes, and we are seen by others as we do so. It’s a two-way street, a push and pull.
I’ve thought a lot about the limits of personal style. Where does personal style end and being seen by others begin? If no one sees you wearing clothes that feel meaningful to you and represent who you are, does your outfit really exist? Do you?
I go back to the kid with the pleated skirt. The world is full of rude people, and I am pretty sure that they have heard their share of snarky comments about them wearing a skirt. There are a lot of people out there who violently hold onto social norms and dress codes, even when they might no longer be necessary or even representative of current times. I said to the kid, as they were leaving, “keep what you’ve got going on, keep being yourself”. They were visibly moved, not because I had given them a compliment, but because they felt seen. It takes guts to break out of the mold, to bend the rules, to wear what you really want, to not care what others might say or think. But even when we dare to go all out, we still hope for recognition.
I have been thinking about this too. Clothing vs. costume, dressing for being seen vs. just for oneself. And I kind of feel lately like there is nothing wrong with costume. Clothing is after all there to tell a story about us, beyond just to protect us from elements & fulfill a social contract. We should let out clothes tell more stories, bigger stories, be more costume, who cares? You know?
As for dressing for others, while it's real and it matters to be seen and it feels good, I think a big part of it is just dressing for our own pleasure. In my case, I feel different in my body, in the privacy of my own house, if I wear something that I love. I do. I am sure I'm not alone. I know many people only change out of pajamas or sweats when they go out, but I'm sure that just as many others, like me, also just enjoy the feel of nice clothes on our bodies when noone sees us. It can help us get in character and get things done, put us in a good mood, make us feel confident, etc. Even when not being seen. Because there is always that part of our own brains that looks at ourselves from the outside in. Even when alone, we're our own observer.
I love this kid already. I had a similar experience with a young person in my store recently. She/he had neon green hair and had the coolest, kind of punky gender fluid style. I live in a pretty conservative suburban area and rarely see people like that. So I had to admire this kids courage and general badassery. Of course, I told them I absolutely loved their style!