News Editor

I’m sorry for what I said before I was a feminist. This is my second style column in a student publication, and though I feel I touched on important style issues and am proud of 95 percent of what I’d previously written, there are sentences I cringe at as I reread them now.

I read in my own writing the words “modesty and classiness,” and I cringe.

“Tights are not pants, and they are also not some magic way of getting away with wearing a dress or skirt that’s too short.”

Cringe.

“If you look like you respect yourself, the rest of the world will surely take notice and do the same.”

Double cringe.

Back then, I was all about promoting great style, but I hadn’t yet educated myself in the ways society condemns women who don’t feel like participating in the clothing-yourself-for-confidence movement. All I knew was that when I wore nice things, I felt good.

I just assumed it was that way for everyone. And I noticed that when I wore things like longer vintage skirts versus miniskirts or shorts to school, I got less catcalls and more genuine compliments. Again, I assumed my outfit was controlling these changes.

It wasn’t until I really educated myself that I realized I was playing right into the hands of what society wanted.

I was indirectly participating in slut shaming, the idea that women who wear more revealing clothing deserve the harassment they receive because of it. Modesty and classiness are terms I never want to promote again. And I never want to shame someone because they wore yoga pants or pajamas to school. As hard as it is being a student these days, I applaud anyone for being just able to even make it to class. I now also try to write my current column with gender-neutral terminology, as style is obviously for anyone who wants to participate, no matter their label.

To relate all this back to sustainability, the main focus of my current series, is the idea that if you dress yourself based on what the rest of the world wants, you’re doing yourself a disservice. To use myself as an example, I have certain pieces of clothing that I love but rarely wear because I’m afraid of how people will respond to them. A certain black dress that’s too short, heels that are too high, full circle skirts that might be a little much for school.

I’ve basically thrown my money away by avoiding these items, and for no real tangible reason at that. When buying clothes you should always consider the price-per-wear. A pair of $200 jeans seems steep, but if you wear them every other day that’s approximately $1.11 per wear for the first year.

Compare that to the price-per-wear if those jeans are never worn because they’re neon pink, or have a low rise, or whatever the reason someone might be scared to wear them in public. It’s a waste of money and resources, and your closet becomes a landfill of “maybe someday” items.

I’ll end this with something I wrote that I’m actually proud to have written:

“The only real [style] mistake is not wearing what you love when you have the chance.”