I was so flattered when Erin asked, because, well...if you had told middle school me that one day I would be asked to write about my sense of style, I would have laughed in your face. Actually, no, painfully shy middle school me would have shrunk back behind my book and thought malicious thoughts about punching you because it was probably a joke, like when horrible people nominate the unpopular kid for homecoming queen as a big prank. See, for most of my life, style was a mystery, a je ne sais quoi that cool people effortlessly had, and which I cluelessly grasped at, only to fail miserably. See exhibits #1 and 2:
|Middle school me: giant glasses, high-waisted pants (but not in the cool retro sort of way), awful print-mixing and ugly sweaters. Oh dear.|
Yeah. I was forever being teased at school about my free t-shirts from various academic competitions and mom jeans sent from Hong Kong by my aunt and grandma, not to mention the fact that I wore huge glasses and had no idea what to do with my hair. I know it was the late eighties/early nineties, and everyone was dressing questionably, but even my dressing questionably skills were, um, questionable. When I hit high school and college and finally got to dictate how I spent my clothing budget, my goal was to dress as unobtrusively as possible, which meant buying whatever mass-produced item was hottest at GAP and Old Navy. By the time I started teaching, I had more confidence and a slightly better sense of myself and who I was, so I began branching out into colors and quirky science t-shirts, but even then, my wardrobe was heavily dictated by what was available at the mall and in my price range. So how did I make the leap over to dressing like a cool geek (as opposed to a dorky geek)? Go check it out!
|This is cool geek, right?|