Too Chic or Not too Chic

Anyone who has ever been on the internet knows about the prevalence of trends. I would go so  far as to say that we are nothing if not compiled of the many neon socks and zebra-striped hair extensions that came before us. Looking at the rings of our ancient fashion tree, a dominant realization prevails. We are both the ugly and the glam — you can’t expect a wonderful world of fresh ideas and authentic fashion without some hiccups. 

That is how I would classify the climate: a hiccup in our progress. Today, to the horror of the female population, there are men in Clairo t-shirts and Shakespeare & Company tote bags. Slithering amongst society exists those who hide behind light-green matcha lattes and wired headphones, only glowing within a perfectly curated Instagram story posted to a Blood Orange song. I assume you can deduce that there are levels to this mania. If by grace, you are unaware of the pandemic, look around your own campus. Visit a performative male contest. Last week, our very own swamp held a contest that attracted only the purest breeds of performativity.

Photo courtesy of @ufcontests on Instagram

Ultimately, we can have our fun and recognize the humor amongst the idea of “performative men.” We can pick them apart by their distinct features and giggle with our friends about their unnecessarily high jean cuffs and vintage leather satchels. But what does this imply for the broader sense of style? Compare fashion pioneering to the birthing of new stars. Their creation is rooted in stardust and gas — material granted by those that came before them. Similar to the novel generation of fashion we find in today’s age, the universe can expand in light of a supernova. We need beacons of hope amongst our generation to pioneer the change, yet we're too busy pretending to be mysterious and incredibly nonchalant.

Photo courtesy of Pinterest

Performativity is an act of erasing the reality of vulnerability and authenticity. The more you covet something, the less of it you possess. Performativism is not a passive act, it's a restless drag against the current. It means heaving as you struggle to keep up with the most wanted top, most exclusive tote and coolest pair of jeans. It means feeling left behind as trends and pop culture moments pass you by. Consequently, it is becoming increasingly harder to find a piece of yourself that isn’t as disposable as the clothes you wear. But how do we separate performativity from our own whimsy?

Well, for one, you can’t look for something that you aren’t familiar with. Authenticity, the stark contrast to performativity, comes with experience. As opposed to being a product of the internet’s fleeting moments, it takes time to nurture the being you feel most true in. This cannot exist without the simultaneous truth that you must carry a hunger for life to discover your quirks – if you prefer shoes dated back to 2001 because of their leather, or if you prefer a material blend of 80% cotton. These minute details are crafted from the emotions you seek as you live your life, and search for yourself in the strange places that give you heart. Living through the vibrant medley of the human experience does two priceless things: gives you confidence in yourself and enhances your sense of vulnerability. Stardust for the star that is fashion.

Photo courtesy of Pinterst

If you expected a quick fix, I am sorry! I wish finding your sense of self was as simple as awakening  one day to find that you know exactly who you are. But, how lucky we are that it isn't-- that there is complexity and hardship before the resolution; that the way in which you uncover your own skin differs from the way I do and that the heart of my purpose lies somewhere unique to yours. This is why being performative is empty and dull: it fails to recognize the beautiful process that is discovering your peculiarities. Find peace in flowing with the current; separate yourself to find the things you truly love in the places you’d never expect, drop the tote bag and pick up a book (one you actually like). You are capable of being 1,001 stars, but first you have to be one unique supernova. 

Strike Out,
Writer: Camila Turcios Hernandez
Editor: Ria Pai

Cami is a writer for Strike Magazine GNV. She lives vicariously through icons like Fancy Nancy and Summer Roberts, but realistically through much more somber ideas of Annie Erneux. She loves collecting jewelry, jokes, and Joan Baez facts, as we all do. If you ever feel inclined to contradict her ideas (which is hard cause women are never wrong), DM her at @camiturcioss on Instagram, or email her at camilaturcios1@gmail.com. For all other interests, her Pinterest is pretty awesome @11cheri.