a feel-good outfit? the dilemma.
It was five or six o’clock in the morning of an early September day, and I was standing on the cold floor of my closet. Still in my pyjamas, awake far earlier than I needed to be, I felt a chill creep from my bare feet to my chest. Honestly, I fought the urge to go back to bed. There I was, sat rifling through piles of clothing arranged somewhat neatly on my shelves.
I have no shortage of clothing, grateful enough to say that I have a closet full of outfits to wear. On the whole, my attention was not placed on the clothing in front of me, but on the nagging feeling in my chest.
On this particular day, I was reaching in my closet for what I would wear, specifically, what I would wear on my first day of University. A day I stepped away from the familiarity of high school, into what is deemed as “adult hood” or the most important days of one’s life. Although I prayed I would feel excited this morning, all I was left with was a pit in my stomach, a lead weight on the top of my shoulders, leaving me restless and unsettled.
the power of clothing
I knew it had to do with today being a first. Stepping foot into a new stage of life, with new faces, classes, and environment. Despite this inner uneasiness, I knew I couldn’t waste time spiralling through my thoughts. I needed a way out. I had to make a move, begin my day, make a coffee, prepare my bag, and set out fresh notebooks and pens. So the next thing I find myself reaching for was the hanger holding the pieces I knew best. A soft simple brown sweater, and a pair of dark-washed jeans. I pulled the sweater over my head, letting the familiar material settle against my skin, then I stepped into my jeans, fastening them at my waist. I took a glance in the mirror, not unaccustomed to the view, it was, after all, a reflection of comfort. I’ve seen this reflection before, this is how I have looked numerous of times, on many occasions. Although I realized as I shut the door of my bedroom, finally beginning my day, the weight felt lighter, light enough to allow me to breathe and step away from my closet.
Maybe it’s because so many people promote the importance of first day outfits on social media, as if it’s make or break. But for me, I wanted comfort.
Was it the fact that I had finally found something easy and comfortable to wear? Despite not being sure a few seconds ago, or was it that I knew my choice of clothing was familiar? I knew exactly how it looked on me, how it sat on my skin. I’ve worn it numerous times before, and have reached for it when I knew I needed something that I was sure I’d feel good in. Or is it in fact familiarity that can lead to calmness when everything else feels uncertain?
You might reach for what you know, the easy hoodie, the well worn skirt. The garment that has sat in your closet for months, perhaps even years, and that we turn to for stability. You not only know this piece, but you know very well how it holds you up, and can even imagine exactly how it sits on your body. There are no surprises. This piece of clothing might call up a special memory: a first date, a unique compliment, the right fit, or even the smell of home.
the feel-good outfit
Why do we get attached to certain clothes? And why do some pieces call for the assurance that things will go well? Perhaps it’s the positive memories attached to what we wear. What were you wearing when you received that compliment? An accidental free drink? Or a time when you answered a question perfectly in class? The memories we attach to our clothes never seem to leave them. What we wear is no longer a mere outfit; it’s a call for a memory, carrying experiences we might otherwise have forgotten.
What if the outfit was a shield against a difficult or stressful day? A way of protection? A new experience, especially when you’re thrust into something new: a first day of work, your first day of university life, a date, or an outing with a new group of people. Or is it that we are referencing the older positive experience to make it easier to push through the new one?
However, on any day of firsts, when you’re nervous and still adjusting, you might very well be aware that the outfit you find comfort in won’t simply fix the stress or take it away. But it acts as something in between you and the outside, perhaps a shield to help you feel more prepared to face it. I can attest to that feeling; finding my own comfort in the outfit I chose for a hard day. An outfit that has seen me through dinner parties, outings, interviews, and late-night social events.
Maybe that is why, on a morning that felt unfamiliar, my instinct wasn’t to reach for the new pieces I bought for the new chapter of my life on campus. That favourite outfit will not change what’s outside my bedroom door, but it reminds me of something that hasn’t changed, something I know very well: me. So that morning, my brown sweater and dark-washed jeans, the same clothes I’ve worn countless times before, were my support to “feel good” on the first day on campus. It was a loving feeling, shielding me from the unfamiliar. Perhaps our clothes are more than fabric this way, more than something we pick out of our closet once we step outside of protecting walls. Perhaps our clothes are cherishable pieces of certainty we wear on good days and difficult ones, first dates and days, ordinary evenings and ones we remember forever.
Read more about our thoughts on campus confidence and beauty here.
Edited by Lily Mengual.