Skidmore defines our fashion just as much as we, the students, define Skidmore. It is an eccentric, outlandish, and peculiar bubble that seems to burst everytime I exit it. With the shock that follows with re-entering the real world, I have come to realize that fashion beyond Skidmore isn’t nearly as exciting.
Here there are no rules. Navy goes with black, florals go with plaid, repetition is welcome, and bras are always optional. Not only am I bored when I leave the fashion borders of Skidmore, but I attempt to implement this eccentric style with the same level of acceptance in new places.
It seems as though fashion outside of Skidmore becomes infinitely less exciting simply because those interested in expressing their sense of fashion are spread out among the real world. Our compounded campus of art, design, and creativity allows us to maximize our style. This compound of fashion, however, comes with judgement.
The Skidmore fashion bubble is exclusive. It does not apply to all Skidmore students and not all students are welcome. When I arrived at school my first year there was pressure surrounding the need or want to be unique in my style choices. There was also, however, pressure to assimilate to the popular brands and trends; from blundstones and hydroflasks to thrifted shearling jackets and prairie dresses. As a result, I felt very much left out of this bubble.
As trends sweep through Skidmore like wildfire, individuals make decisions about their want or need to board the bandwagon. In an attempt to be as offbeat as possible, the fashion forward students of Skidmore curate themselves to be unique. Others attempt to blend in as much as possible and go to great lengths to curate themselves to be the same.
Those who attempt to be unique end up becoming a part of a uniform mass of idiosyncratic individuals. Those who attempt to blend in become a part of the group who only express their style in order to fit in and therefore, stand out against the whimsical background of the campus.
At first I thought that my thrifted closet would fit into the kooky style represented here. It quickly became a competition, however, to see who could be the “kookiest”. I grew tired of being judged for being too basic or too bland and felt excluded by the narrative of style. Then my narrow perspective of Skidmore’s fashion expanded. I came to see styles based on blending in, style based on trends, and even style based on wealth.
I shed my thrifted skin and gravitated towards a style based on blending in. I started to dress in the way I thought I ought to. I felt that if I couldn’t stand out I may as well not be seen at all. In that process, I left behind the inspirations and icons that embody the special style of Skidmore. Now, after my phase of striving for normalcy, I am working to rediscover the offbeat nature of this fashion bubble.
I have spent my time here letting Skidmore define my style. I hope to spend my remaining time here defining it with my choices. At the beginning of each year, I develop an entirely irrational anxiety around getting dressed in the morning. I am suddenly aware that many people on this campus don’t know me and have no concept of my style or my interests. Therefore, the first weeks of outfits contribute to my overall fashion schema.
A schema that my friends and close classmates are aware of to the point where even if I wear something uncharacteristic, it blends into my general aesthetic by default. In the fall, on my last first day of school, I hope to avoid this. It will be my last year of full fledged free and kooky expression before diving head first into the adult world. Skidmore is divided in this freedom. You either choose to stand out, or not.
The bubble is exclusive in nature and inherently judgmental. In choosing to pop it rather than waiting for it to burst, style becomes much more flexible. Now that I have chosen to dress and functions outside the boundaries of what Skidmore defines as fashion, I can define it myself.