The idea of dressing independently of trends was a learned process for me. Somehow I got caught in a crossfire of fitting in with the other girls at school, rather than choosing items that fit my spirit, my essence.
Growing up, in elementary school, my favorite thing to wear was a plain white t-shirt. I felt that no one would be able to criticize it. A white tee had no kiddie characters, or logos of a brand that was suddenly not popular. When I saw it in the hamper, I was left with a sinking feeling of having nothing to wear.
Once middle school began, a surge of independent fashion choices arose, and I became the only one at school wearing Teva’s with socks. I was coming into my own and it was a golden time. I loved wearing my sweatpants, and it also meant I was always ready for gym class. Cozy, loosy-goosy stuff was all I wanted to be in. It was my comfort and sense of freedom. Yes, I slept on the glorious Y2K fashion to wear sweatpants, and Teva’s with socks.
And now in my 40’s, I’ve adjusted the idea of self-expression. I still ponder the ‘fit’ but now there are moments where I get self conscious of my body. And sometimes refrain from standing out by wearing something extravagant, because in Seattle a lot of people wear Teva’s with socks. So really, I’m not fully expressing myself because I get in my head with this thoughts of fitting in, literally and figuratively.
If I look in the mirror and my outfit does not spark an inner voice that says ‘yes’, I’m not committed. There may be a pile of clothes on my bedroom chair but I won’t leave the house until I feel right. And when does it feel right? When it does. There is no science but just knowing that you will be your best in what you have on.
A lot of people dress for others, but what if we dressed for ourselves. How does it feel like? Will it feel like our school days again? The way we curate our life and wardrobe is believe it or not, intentional. Whether you are shopping with no limit, or have a minimal wardrobe, each item will serve it’s purpose in your collection.
And sometimes, self-expression doesn’t have to begin with the world watching. It can start in our homes. Before we step outside, there’s an intimacy in dressing for ourselves alone. No audience or judgment, just us choosing how we want to feel.
That’s where comfort becomes its own kind of empowerment. When I designed the Christine Robe, I wanted it to capture that very idea: a garment that lets you sink into yourself, to feel beautiful without needing exterior permission or praise. It’s design was to nurture the relationship you have with yourself first. If you can’t be with yourself first, why should anyone else?
And maybe that’s the real secret of personal style: it begins with listening to ourselves. To that little voice that says, “yes, this feels like me.” Whether it’s a overly worn white tee, Teva’s with socks, or a robe that makes you want to linger a little longer in your morning ritual, you know it will feel right when it feels right.
So, what if your wardrobe became less about presentation and more about reflection? What if each piece, from the most casual to the most intentional, was simply a mirror of how you want to feel in your own skin?
That’s what has been reeling in my head, as I look at a closet full of my stuff that I love but sometimes doesn’t feel like me.... what does your closet look like?
Love, Margaret
