Trying To Be Cool

I’ve been buying a lot of new clothes recently. These aren’t just clothes from Zara, my usual money-burner. Instead, I’ve been buying clothes from small Australian brands that hand make their pieces or have strong ethical and environmental practises. A lot of these brands I’ve discovered through friends and website I contribute writing too. I love buying from smaller brands, I feel like I’m able to support a small business and support the work of a talented human, whilst also owning pieces that feel fresh, unique and may get one or two compliments when I wear them out in the world. 

However, I’ve started thinking about my motivations for buying pieces from these brands.

Am I buying them because I truly love them?

Am I purchasing these pieces because I want to support a small business?

Or am I buying them because I just want to look cool?

When I asked myself that last question, I instantly felt dreadful.

I started thinking about all the times I’d worn something or done something just to be perceived as cool. How I’d warped my outer image to align better with the people I was spending my time with.

Was I doing it again by filling my wardrobe with these new clothes?

Was I just trying to fit into the group of people I’d chosen to invest time in? 
Each piece I’ve purchased so far has made me smile when it’s arrived. Seeing the intricate details and the hand-written notes, thanking me for purchasing an item from a small business really fills my heart with joy. I acknowledge my privilege here. I know not a lot of people can afford to buy handmade, sustainable clothing to hang in their wardrobes and I feel very grateful that I’m lucky enough to be able to do this myself. The thing is, I still sometimes feel a pang of guilt when I scroll through Instagram, screenshot an item I want to buy and then see that one of my new Internet friends has this piece as well. I think, will they think I’m copying them? 

It’s like I’m going through a bout of imposter syndrome, where my head tells me, “They’ll know you’re not cool. They’ll know you’re masking your averageness with these clothes.” 

Working from home has stopped me from dressing up. I wake up in the morning and when I get dressed, I’m not putting together a look like I used to. Instead, I’m just putting on the first clean thing I see in front of me. I’ve barely worn any make-up and have almost started wearing the same outfit repeatedly because I think, “who’s going to see me?” 

Has my imposter syndrome stemmed from lockdown’s sudden urge to just dress comfortably? Has it grown more as I’m spending more time in my house with my dog, instead of being out with people? Do I feel less of a need to express myself through my clothes? Or am I no longer expressing myself through clothes, and am trying to gain a sense of self back through the clothes I’m suddenly dropping cash on? 

It’s a very weird cycle of thought I’ve found myself in more often and I’m trying to stop it. 

I’m trying to put this strange imposter syndrome to bed when I’m eyeing off a new piece I want to add to my ever-growing wardrobe. 

As I gaze at the item through my laptop screen, I ask myself, “do you actually like it? Would you wear it? Is it worth spending that money on, or are you better off saving it for something better?” 

These questions help me decipher whether I’m looking at a piece just because I’ve seen all my friends wearing it (and look absolutely stunning in it!), or if I’m interested in adding it to my outfit rotation. It’s helped me to buy some things that I do think will really help me express myself better through fashion, which I love. I also love knowing I’ve bought something a designer is truly proud of and is happy their creation will be loved by someone and worn for years to come. 

I never thought I’d experience outfit imposter syndrome, but with lockdown finally over, and people emerging fully ready to show the world who they are again, I find myself wondering if I’m truly expressing myself through my clothing, or if I’m just trying to look cool.