Throughout high school, I was the kind of person who didn’t care about her looks, at all. I focused all of my attention on my grades rather than my appearance because I thought it was an either-or situation. It never occurred to me that I could do both, and I never felt pretty growing up. I was constantly shown by the media that pretty girls were blonde and skinny and tall. I’ve never been blonde nor skinny or tall. I was always confident in my intelligence, but never in my looks, and that sucked. When I started college, I decided that that was going to change.
I grew up going to Catholic school, wearing a gray uniform every single day: my pleated skirt no more than four centimeters above my knee, a white polo, a black blazer, and black shoes. I never minded the uniform, I was comfortable with it, but when I moved to Boulder and transferred to Fairview High School during my sophomore year, I felt like I had stepped inside a rainbow. Colorful clothes with equally colorful hair. I had no idea what to wear to school, and I soon fell into a “uniform” of sorts. Every day, I wore sneakers, jeans, and a regular t-shirt. I didn’t look bad, per se, but I wasn’t winning any fashion shows.
Then, I got a job. I had disposable income. And what did I do with my money? Nothing at first. Then, as time went on, I realized that I should invest more in my clothes. So, I started experimenting with my outfits. It was trial and error for a while. I’ve bought skirts that I’ve only worn once, and t-shirts that I wear all the time. I’ve learned what I like and what I actually wear, and I’ve also learned that it doesn’t really matter how much I spend. I have a Levis jean jacket that I spent $90 on and a pair of thrifted $4 pants, and they’re both great.
Along with learning how to style different outfits, I learned how to style my hair. My hair is thick and black as the dark night, and there’s a lot of it. For years and years, I would comb through it and I’d straighten it to tame its frizziness. I always treated my hair like a mess, and I rarely let it down. It was always in a braid or a bun. When I was fifteen though, I stopped straightening it. I started wearing leave-in conditioner, and then I bought a curling cream. And a gel, and a Denman brush, and nicer shampoo. And low and behold, my hair was never messy, it was just curly. I’ve fallen in love with my curls, and although I’m still learning how to best treat them, I’ve never been happier with my hair.
Beauty is in the eye of the beholder. Your eye is what matters when it comes to your beauty. If you feel beautiful or cute or pretty, then you look beautiful and cute and pretty. When I started trying to look pretty, I felt pretty and soon enough, I didn’t have to try as hard to feel pretty. Once I started feeling good in my own skin, everything looked nicer on me. I saw myself as prettier, which makes it so much easier to like the way I look every day, whether I do my make-up or not, whether I wear jeans and a hoodie or a skirt and a blouse.
