Take a walk down North Street on a Tuesday morning; stumble into a first-year International Relations lecture on a Wednesday afternoon; take a brief glance around the library basement as you study this weekend. It’s likely that you’ll notice a certain je ne sais quoi quality of those around you, a quality many denote as ‘St Andrew’s style.’ Raw denim jeans, jewel-toned cashmere knits, long wool trench coats, Longchamp or Goyard bags, silken hair pulled back casually with a tortoiseshell claw clip. On the other hand, men’s slacks are typically worn with dress shirts in pastels, grey, brown, or navy, paired with knit quarter-zips and embossed leather loafers. It’s almost a uniform at this point. Having grown up at an all-girls school with a very strict uniform (hair up, no necklaces, no rings, no earrings apart from regulated silver studs, no nail polish, standardised shoes and socks, and many, many more), I have grown accustomed to finding subtle ways to curate a personal style when it feels like you don’t have much to work with.
But then again, what exactly is ‘personal style’? In many ways, it’s an indefinite concept, as it varies from person to person. In other words, it is defined by its subjective, intangible nature. So take these next few paragraphs with a grain of salt. After all, there is no guide to personal style because only you can create it.
When you find yourself with a so-called ‘capsule-wardrobe’ or ‘uniform’, especially in a place like St Andrews, every small detail can make or break an outfit. Most of the time, accessories are the key to an outfit; items that are perpetually slept on or deemed less important than the base styling.
This is where the ‘teeny-tiny’ comes in.
Grandmother’s necklaces, vintage scarves, rings from artists’ markets; the list is, in many ways, infinite. And yet, it’s important to note that having personable accessories doesn’t necessitate having seventy pairs of earrings. The so-called ‘capsule-wardrobe’ approach can extend into accessories, too. With just a few thoughtfully selected pieces that resurface every day, your personal style reveals itself organically. It’s through this repetition that style transforms something into a trademark.
This mindset is both economically more efficient and a rebellion against the fever of contemporary fashion-influencing. As social media becomes more and more embedded in our society, personal style becomes harder to conceptualise. Trend cycles speed up, and we grow fatigued and confused about what we really want to wear. Such confusion coincides with the intense pressure many young people feel to ‘find’ themselves; to be perceived as ‘unique’. In a culture of sameness and fast-moving trends, I would wager that truly inspiring individuality is found not in excess, but in restraint; in the teeny-tiny.