As I stand stumped in front of the assortment of fabrics in my wardrobe, I’m forced to remember when, why, and how I managed to hoard this much stuff. The clothes I wore in high school seemed to have graduated with me into college. They were even able to travel abroad without all the VISA hassles, I might add.
My fashion sense now sits at the nexus of punk-nerdy teenager and senior citizen. I can’t help but succumb to the comfort of graphic tees, oversized hoodies, and baggy jeans. It’s not like I don’t own any fancy tops or classy college-girl dresses. I do have them… Plenty of them. But every morning, my hands seem to automatically beckon this cocoon of comfort; despite the fact that this comfort, unfortunately, looks a little… bland. in. Still, as Autumn rolls in, I feel the sudden urge to resurrect my hot-girl summer energy before the dull season returns to take over my wardrobe.So, one day, I actually tried. I put on a cute top and skirt. I even tamed my hair into something that resembled effort.
But then I remembered my backpack.
With my laptop, charger, extension cords, cables, notebooks, random circuit boards, and probably whatever else you could name, this backpack weighs as much as a small house. Did I mention I study engineering?
Of course, I didn’t say it earlier, because the moment people hear “engineering,” they immediately assume fashion advice is the last thing I should be giving. Engineering majors are usually considered the worst-dressed students on campus. And honestly, the stereotype isn’t wrong.
First of all: the backpack. It ruins both your outfits and your spine. My research project might as well be about designing a pocket-sized bag, because I’m tired of looking like a turtle. Second: early tutorials. In the hour between limited sleep and long commute, getting dressed up feels more like a suggestion. With crusted eyes and un-brushed hair, I think looking presentable would be nice, but it just doesn’t work in practice. Third: the endless cycle of work. Even on days with no lectures I’m buried in coursework. I doubt that people would even be able to notice my theoretically cute wardrobe beneath my avalanche of classes, labs, projects and assignments. Wearing a cute outfit just to sit at a desk feels like wasting good clothes. When you find yourself struggling against problem sets, you don’t have time for beauty, you simply tie your hair up, open your laptop, and enter academic survival mode.
Still, on the rare day that I actually do dress up, I feel like a cloud of cotton candy, sticking out like a sore thumb in the sea of black shirts and baggy jeans.There aren’t many girls in engineering. Since I’m often surrounded by guys who don’t care to hide that they rolled out of bed five minutes ago, I feel that my environment just doesn’t facilitate my most fashionable self. Eventually, I begin to retreat back. Black. Brown. Denim. Back into safe colours.
But even in my ‘safety’, I still hear the siren call of the bright colours all the way from my wardrobe. Every time you see the cool girls across campus, with the tiny tote bags and cute purses, you’re brought back to the cotton candy-coloured potential. It doesn’t help when, at night, my mum reminds me of all these clothes that I never wear; the ones I insisted on when I simply needed a cool wardrobe. All of these memories swirl together in my mind, I am brought back to my primary school dream of having a cool uni student. I remember all the outfits I used to dream of.
I open my closet again and pick out an outfit. I lay it out for tomorrow morning. I pack my bag. I tighten the straps. I try on the outfit. For a moment, I hesitate to look in the mirror, worried I’ll still see that schoolgirl playing dress-up. But when I finally do, I realise something simple: It’s just me. I am still the same engineering girlie who loves colour, chaos, and graphic t-shirts.
Maybe I stand out. Maybe my style seems to somehow occupy the small margin between ‘too much’ and ‘too little’. But it’s mine. Whether drop-dead gorgeous or completely unsightly, I have decided to cherish my style as it is a catalogue of who all that I am. Somewhere in the mix of tangled hair and boring sweaters is a history of me.
I found that I don’t need to check boxes on some imaginary list of what an engineering student should look like. Maybe I’m setting a trend. Maybe I’m committing several fashion crimes at once. Either way, on the days I feel like entering my princess era, I will. And on the other days? Well, I already have a splendid Graphic tee collection to snuggle right into.
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