cosas que molan💝
My Saturday mornings used to be spent perusing dusty racks of once-worn sweaters, eagerly searching for my Cool Item of the week. I’d come to school after the weekend, beaming with a sort of pride that’s difficult to explain to those who have never spent hours combing through miles of hangers and blue bins covered in chipped paint. “You like it?” I would say, whispering conspiratorially to anyone who dared to speak on my outfit choices. “It’s thrifted.”
Ah, thrifting. If you told ten-year-old Michelle that her high school weekends would be spent at Goodwill, she’d probably cry. I used to lie about where I got my borrowed duds to the cool girls so that they’d like me and invite me to sit with them at lunch. Girls with shiny vlog cameras made thrift store hopping cool. In 2012, the word “Goodwill” left my mouth with the same disgust as the word “vomit.” When my dad would get paid, I begrudgingly got in my mom’s 2007 Civic to try and replicate the outfits of the girls I wanted to be (think overpriced Southern t-shirts and ill-fitting knockoff North Face jackets). I was a weird, overly talkative little girl with few friends, and the fact that we couldn’t (or my mom didn’t want to) afford most name brands was a source of constant embarrassment for me. I was a brat. A tween-aged, materialistic, brainwashed brat.
Skip forward a few years, my dad got a raise, and in my desperation to seem cool and normal, I developed an awful shopping habit. Fast fashion brands were my crack. I was in a brand new outfit each week, trying to impress boys I didn’t like and girls I pretended not to care about. It was addictive. The constant want for new clothes, new things, and just more didn’t feel like a want anymore. It was a need. I was a 14-year-old junkie; Forever 21 and my cripplingly low self-esteem waved the needle in my face. I spent so much money filling a void that the fashion industry convinced me I had.
Maybe it was an intervention from a higher power, maybe it was fate, but videos speaking out against fast fashion began to litter my Youtube recommendations. I don’t know what possessed my haul video obsessed mind to start watching, but something clicked within me. I decided I was going to quit fast fashion cold turkey, and it actually worked. I began buying exclusively secondhand. It was better for society, better for my parents’ wallets, and helped me to branch out as an individual. I was putting together unique outfits, and people liked them. I was different, but this time in a way that didn’t push people away.
I feel almost like an archaeologist, in a way. I’m unearthing pieces no one else has, and I know that each unique item has a story. It’s taught me to take risks, to step outside my comfort zone. In a thrift store, I choose clothes that I like without blaring music and trendy employees making me feel SO uncool (I’m looking at you, Urban Outfitters). That weird insecure little girl has turned into a butterfly that rejoices when she finds Liz Claiborne jeans, and I couldn’t be happier.
4- Favorite line from a book
idk, i don’t have an specific favorite line from any book :(
(well, if it counts, i’m now obsessed with the line «you do not fuck, there’s no wall but a whore» from a
bad translation of Fear of the Dark, thanks to @too-young-to-fall-in-love sksks)
12- Its 2:30 am. What were you doing last night?
Trying to sleep
14- Least Favorite Subject
In high school it used to be Math. Right now at Uni, probably French
Thank you for the ask💕