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“Fashion” meant nothing to me as a little girl. I remember this hideous outfit I owned: a forest green sweatshirt-sweatpants duo that had Sailor Moon plastered on them. Growing up, I had puffy sleeved velvet dresses for dinner occasions, but otherwise my wardrobe consisted of hand-me downs from my cousins. In fact, every time they decided to go through their closet and give me the discards, I was thrilled because whatever they gave me seemed to be the best looking things in my outdated dresser.

None of this really bothered me then. My parents were hard working immigrants who needed to pay the mortgage and put food on the table, so clothes weren’t exactly a priority. Besides, I was a bookworm who had her nose dug deep into another new novel each week. But there were times when some comments pricked, like when a snooty girl in high school walked up to be and asked, “Do you wear that jacket every day?” Talk about sting.

In high school, my closet began to evolve, but far from what it is today. I became good friends with a girl, Annie, who held open the shopping mall door for me. She was a diva, and such was her style. Sadly, my style and preference strayed far from hers. I began to shop on my own, and only then did my sense of style evolve.

I shot up in height in middle school. I was that tall, lanky Asian girl. For some time, I wistfully wished to be that cute, adorable Asian girl, but I couldn’t be cute – not when I was tall. But then I learned to own my looks. Instead of cute, I could be chic. Knowing my style now seems to help me know who I am. I don’t wear pink lace, or low-cut cleavage sweaters, or baggy T-shirts. I can wear maxi dresses and floor length gowns that my shorter, cute friends would swim in. I learned to love my body type. My fashion is a sign of being comfortable in my own skin.

When I say “fashion,” I don’t mean I obsess over every magazine that comes my way. Or that I stream fashion runways left and right. I don’t mean we should wear neon lipstick or put a bird’s nest in our hair. Personally, I think fashion is getting a good sense of who you are and who you want to be. And it’s a bonding session. I know a true friend when we go shopping together and share similar tastes and similar views on money. Someone who enjoys what you enjoy, without making you feel like shopping is a solo activity, someone who is truly happy when you found that shoe or shirt you’ve always wanted.

I love being that person for my friends. I’ve shown a friend the perfect tinted Chap Stick, another the perfect red lipstick. I once transformed a friend from a hoodie, curve-hiding gamer to a stunning head-turner – but it was still within her comfort zone and style. Clothes shouldn’t make us into someone else – we choose them to express ourselves.

“时尚”对我这样一个小女孩还说一点意义都没有。我还记得曾经有一套极其丑陋的衣服,是森林绿的运动衫和运动裤,上面印着美少女战士的图案。长大后,我有了一件泡泡袖的丝绒裙,在晚宴时偶尔穿穿,但其他时候,我的那些衣服比我的姐妹们逊色很多。事实上,每次她们决定整理衣橱、挑出不穿的衣服给我时,我都非常惊喜,因为无论她们给我什么衣服,看上去都比我早就过时的那些衣服好看很多。

但后来我不再因为这个觉得困扰了。我父母都是工作很勤奋的移民,他们要支付房贷、维持生计,因此穿衣打扮也就显得不那么重要了。而且,我是个书虫,整天沉浸在每周一本的新书中。但总有那么几次,有些言语会刺伤我脆弱的心灵,就譬如一个高傲自大的高中女生见到我疑惑地问道,“你每天都穿这件夹克吗?”这真的是哪壶不开提哪壶。
在高中的时候,我的衣柜开始革新,不过肯定远不如现在。我和安妮成为了好朋友,她为我打开了购物之门。她是位歌唱家,她的风格也是如此。悲哀的是,我的风格与品味和她截然不同。我开始独自逛街,也就是从这个时候开始,我的风格逐渐形成。
在初中的时候我突然长高,当时我成了一个又高又瘦的亚洲女孩。曾几何时,我是多么渴望自己也可以很可爱、很讨人喜欢,但这个梦想无法成真,至少我的身高就不可爱。但渐渐地我意识到了自己的长相。也许我不能变得可爱,但是我可以很高雅。现在看来,了解自己的风格对我了解自己有很大的帮助。我不再穿粉色的蕾丝边、低胸的毛衣、或大口袋的T恤。转而,我开始穿长大衣、拖地长袍。我那些矮个子的、可爱的朋友完全没法穿这些衣服。我开始爱上自己身材独有的款式。我的时装是让我全身舒适的一个标志。
当我说“时尚”的时候,我并不是指自己沉迷于我所见到的每一本杂志,也不是说我拼命追赶时尚的潮流。我不是想要表明我们应该涂炫彩的唇膏或者把我们的头发搞得很花哨。我个人认为时尚是帮助你认识自我、改变自我的意识。并且,这是一个很长的、持续的过程。我有一个挚友,我们一起购物、有相似的品味、相近的价值观。她和我一样快乐,不会让我觉得购物是我一个人的独角戏;在我寻觅到一直想要的鞋子或衣服时,她为我感到高兴。
我愿意为我的朋友出谋划策。我已经为一位朋友挑选了一款炫亮唇彩,为另一位朋友挑选了完美的红色唇膏。有一次,我将一位朋友从穿帽衫有游戏人物形象转变为惊世骇俗的美女形象,当然这还是在她所能接受的范围之内的造型转变。服装并不是让我们变成其他人,我们挑选服装是为了展示自己。