Not having a defined personal style has been complicated for me.
On one hand, I am at a permanent loss for what to say when filling out various things relating to this blog that demand to know what characterizes and motivates my personal style. I can never come up with a witty answer. I lie a lot. Once I wrote down “hipster” and immediately hated myself. Another time I referred to myself as “classic with a twist”. What the hell does that even mean? That sounds like a cocktail you order at an upscale bar where dress code is enforced and nothing, not even a napkin, costs less than $20.
On the other hand, this has the effect of my weekly outfits reading like profiles on the homepage of an online dating site, which is quite fun. Are you interested in Monica, 33, whose fuchsia pantsuit means that she’s ~quirky and unpredictable~ yet probably already has a retirement fund in place and has also mastered the skill of keeping a house fern alive? Or leaning more towards flannel-and-beanie-clad Kay, who may force you into trying kombucha but has the BEST taste in music and def knows where to get good weed?
I like how clothes can transform people’s perception of you and alter your mood more than anything else. It’s like assuming a new persona for the day, a permanent Halloween. So here’s a fun lil trip down memory lane on WhatKumquat: my clothes as characters. Swipe right!… or left, I still don’t have enough storage on my phone to download Tinder and therefore don’t know how to use it. But I can appreciate the metaphor.