The Meaning of Fashion
According to…Vivian Yang
by VIVIAN YANG ★ SEPTEMBER 9, 2022
I felt ashamed of wearing the pink top that accentuated the natural curves of my body. I felt ashamed of being entranced by a sparkling dress resting in a window display.
There has been a tug-of-war in my head, trying to define the meaning of fashion. My internal interpretation contradicted every noise of the external environment. No matter how loud the inner voice tried to tell the seventeen-year-old me that her definition was the one that mattered, the outside voices won. I allowed the rules of religious high school teachers, traditional parents, and conservative friends to determine my clothing of choice and my place in this world.
For a long time, I blamed myself for feeling uncomfortable conforming to external expectations. For the entirety of high school, and sometimes in college, I conversed with myself in an attempt to justify my feelings:
"Smart girls who read books aren't supposed to be materialistic!"
"Why can't you be a normal girl who wears a skirt that covers your knees?"
"You better hide that black crop top before your parents come home."
"If you want to fit in, you better bust your ass to Lulu-Lemon."
Eventually, these conversations diminished any ounce of authenticity and inner direction I had left. I became the girl everyone loved and was even labeled as a “fashionista.” More fast trends decorated my appearance; more compliments piled up from strangers. Validation from friends, teachers, and parents was like a drug addiction. I learned to please everyone's eyes except my own.
On July 10th, lying on the lawn of Stuyvesant Park, my inner voice slipped away as I flipped through pages of Free Food for Millionaires. Min Jin Lee wrote: "Smart girls wanted to be beautiful in the way beautiful girls wanted to be smart. Size fourteen bibliophiles could love clothes as much as size two heiresses who shopped to fill their time." Ever since I was a little girl, I formed the idea that clothing was magic. I tried to believe it with my whole heart. A silky, burnt-orange dress could slow down my breaths, and cast a spell on my body. It could make me feel alive. After reading what I consider the most important line of this book, the idea of magical clothing became my truth. Every cashmere sweater, leather jacket, or rusty sneaker told a story—some pieces whispered while others screamed. Clothes were my source of expression, a mirror for the parts of myself that I couldn’t reflect otherwise. I loved myself and the world when what I wore suggested an image, a life, a kind of woman.
On September 6th, sitting in the eighth row of my beauty and diversity class, the Professor led a discussion on the principle of the Semiotics Model—nothing has meaning in and of itself. I literally saw my world crack open when those words traveled through my ears. I began to question everything I knew (in an earth-shattering good way). I applied the principle to my interpretation of fashion and reflected on my past experiences. My high school culture associated "good girls" with high necklines, and my college culture associated "trendiness" with name-brand sweatsuits. For so long, I felt like I didn't belong anywhere. Now, I realize that instead of accepting myself and my own fashion choices and inner direction, I followed rules from a manual that didn’t even belong to me.
In class, we did an exercise of observing and discussing a laced blouse. The more I listened, the more I began to understand that every individual has their interpretation of fashion. Some talked about how the top revealed one's socioeconomic class, while others simply complimented the intricate sewed-in roses. People really do see everything through a filter of their own desires and regrets, hopes and fears. How we interpret our own and others' fashion choices reflect our internal worldview. The meaning we have created with clothes and surroundings is ultimately a reflection of who we are.
Fashion is the most important form of communication, almost beating the importance of the vocal cords. To me, fashion is whatever syncs with my body’s symphony—from the way fabrics wrap around our bodies to the energy we project onto others to how much we let the world see of ourselves. Are we brave enough to communicate to the world the things that make our heart sparkle and head spin? Or will we cover up our true selves with identities curated by strangers?
Fashion is like a language, but a language that can't be mastered with merely time and effort. Fashion takes bravery in confronting socially constructed definitions and confidence in discovering our inner voices. Every day, I am learning what it's like to be a true fashionista.