Right?

Fashion is an outward manifestation of the person we’ve determined ourselves to be on the inside. It has long been the go-to way of separating oneself from the masses. Many countercultural movements rely on inventing a new style for that reason. Without even opening your mouth, somebody is able to identify what you believe in and what your interests are because you are visually aligned with a certain group. But when we’re all dressed the same, we start assuming that we all must be the same. So we find other avenues to prove that we aren’t.

In high school, I prided myself on sticking out. I had bright pink hair, thick eyeliner and spent an hour before school every day choosing an outfit that I knew would be unique. Now, the hair dye has faded back to brown, I can’t remember the last time I even touched a tube of eyeliner and the only personality in my outfits most days is a soccer scarf.

When I show my college friends a picture of sixteen year old Melody, it’s often met with a gasp and giggle followed by an exclamation of “I never would’ve guessed that that was you!” But to me, I still am her. So, why do we look so different?

It’s only natural that our wild teenage ways become muted as we progress into adulthood (my Manic Panic hair might not be welcomed in a corporate office), but it’s not even that we’re adjusting our personal style to better fit a professional setting. We are losing it altogether. 

I’m not bashing modern trends, they’re trends for a reason. If people didn’t like an item, it wouldn’t be so popular. But, whether implicitly or explicitly recognized, we live our lives at the mercy of social media. When we see certain looks gaining popularity, we seek to mimic them in hopes of receiving the same amount of positive attention. Offline, our motivation is similar; we’re trying to send the message that we are “with it,” we are culturally aware enough to know what’s in and out.

Our camouflage is a safety blanket. We don’t want judging eyes on us so we opt for outfits that fade us into the crowd. However, we still have a desire to prove that we are inwardly different, the black sheep with UGG boots among white sheep with UGG boots. Enter the standing out versus blending in dichotomy. 

I am no exception. I talk about music that’s more obscure than what you like, artsy films directed by people whose names you couldn’t pronounce and books that you could not begin to decode in the way that I’ve decoded them. And while, yes, I do genuinely enjoy the media I consume, there comes a time when you have to ask yourself: “if an Instagram story is posted with a 1980s French shoegaze song but no one is around to view it, does the 1980s French shoegaze song even matter that much to me?” Sometimes an Olivia Dean song is better, but you know that name too well. I’ve got to dig deeper. 

To combat that outward blending in that we’ve done, we often exaggerate our interests and the degree to which we are interested in them. Then we’re in constant, fabricated competition to be the most different. I’ve pretended to care about an artist or a movie more than I actually do to set myself apart. I only watched "Frances Ha" once, but sure, I’ll put it in my Letterboxd top four. I don’t even listen to “Living Well is the Best Revenge” that often, but I needed an unpopular example to pique your interest. 

Let me give you a spoiler: you don’t have to tone down or hype up who you are to seem impressive. 

I apologize for the cliche, but it’s just true. Nobody has your exact combination of interests or your exact fashion sense. You don’t have to be the most niche in the room to be interesting but you also don’t have to follow the trends to be stylish. You’re you! Who else can say that?

I see a lot of people post on TikTok saying things like “can we bring this back?” or “when is it going to be cool to do this again?” Why do you have to wait for somebody else to bring it back? Why do you have to wait for something to be deemed cool before you can do it? If you like it and you want to do it, then it’s already back and it’s already cool. 

I’ve taken the small steps to be like sixteen year old Melody again. Instead of looking out of the window and waiting for someone to walk by with an outfit like mine before I consider it safe to wear in public, I just remind myself it’s a very me outfit and that’s what matters. Instead of saying the most underground name I can think of when asked what music I like, I’ll be honest and say that I really do think The Beatles are the greatest band of all time. 

If you’re too concerned with making yourself palatable, you’ll never actually discover yourself. Who knows, maybe someone is waiting on you to give them the confidence to discover themself as well. 

Melody Meyer is a sophomore studying Journalism with a concentration in sports broadcasting and is a columnist at The State News. The views in this article are her own and independent of The State News.