It’s not a Brat summer…it’s just summer
I admit, I had to Google what “brat” meant.
I had listened to Charli XCX’s album by the same name, but didn’t really get what the term actually was supposed to convey. According to the internet, ‘brat’ refers to a slightly rough, messy, dingy party girl aesthetic. It’s a rejection of the clean, posh girl vibes that were taking over our closets and Instagram feed’s last year, rebelling against the perfectionism that’s been marketed to us as desirable.
Seeing likely Democratic nominee Kamala Harris embrace the branding is what really got me to pay attention. I’d wondered why so many girlies I follow had started to go a bit grunge; flawed is now the thing to be.
While I personally appreciate a more feminine, old money aesthetic, I am exhausted by the ways in which we’re constantly being told who we should be. Rejecting linen to instead embrace ill-fitting cargos isn’t edgy, if you’re trying to keep up with the influencers. Being edgy, if it isn’t authentic to you, is no more authentic than wearing a knockoff Rolex if is, if you’re deep in debt.
Here’s an idea: instead of changing our entire senses of selves every year, what if we started to just….be ourselves? Do, be, say, wear, and own what you like? Instead of what’s ‘trendy’?
I find myself doing this too; curating my wardrobe so that my clothing is a perfect reflection of the image I want to project. It’s also enabled my five or six adult identities and fed my constant need for chaos. I tend to completely change my wardrobe every two years or so, through a style change progression that results in an entirely different set of pieces to cycle through. It’s almost like unconscious curation or subconscious styling, if you will.
What if we could just decide that you could embody something without having to become it?
What if we didn’t allow ourselves to be endlessly exploited by marketers, whose goal is to make us feel part of the out group? What if we decided that our existence wasn’t a trend?
I’m committing, from this day forward, to just being myself; fuck the labels. I don’t want nor need to embody some kind of consumerist utopia, where one morphs into the latest influencer with the click of their mouse. I reject putting my sense of style, my creativity, or my personal expression into a narrow box.
I will be myself…just me.
The clothes will not wear me, I will wear the damn clothes.
