Using Fashion To Turn Back The Clock

It’s a trope in movies that one day you’ll wake up, and you won’t be able to recognise yourself; not because you’ve undergone some sort of Freaky Friday situation, but because you’ve aged. It’s not something fabricated by Hollywood; it actually happens to all of us. Though it’s not as dramatic as it’s made out to be, it’s just a little sad; aging isn’t a bad thing (despite whatever skincare companies tell you to get you to think otherwise), it just happens quicker than you’d expect.

It's likely that the only reason I’m thinking about this at the moment is because me and my friends are going through so much transition  – within the space of one year I did my A-Levels, moved to uni (and out of my parents’ house), met my best friends, completed my first year, moved out of student accommodation and into my first adult flat. I feel like this year has aged me so much, which is crazy considering the jump from 18 to 19 is tiny in the grand scheme of my entire lifetime. But it feels like recently I’ve had to kiss my childhood goodbye in more ways than I’ve felt comfortable doing.

If you’re like me, if you’re scared of the ticking clock and the relentless passage of time, you might be trying to find small ways to bring back your younger self in your adult life. Though I can’t reverse the process of aging, or unlearn all the learned lessons, I can be a person that little me would’ve admired. I can dress in a way that I would’ve adored when I was younger.

How do we do this?

Now, obviously, to do this, we would have to make some slight adjustments and not dress with a complete childlike innocence (wearing a princess costume in day-to-day life may impair my ability to perform necessary tasks). But I can incorporate little easter eggs from my childhood in my outfits. By choosing colourful clothes and by wearing mismatched socks, I can feel more connected to my inner child. I could choose hand-me-downs, headbands, and jelly heels. I could cover my arms in bracelets with my friend's initials on, and only wear ‘twirly’ dresses. I could put glitter everywhere, and cover myself in sequins and sparkles (to the point where I'm a danger to oncoming traffic) just to feel as though I can recognise myself again. The only functional dressing I could partake in is wearing Velcro shoes and shorts underneath my dress (just in case I cartwheel). My outfits would have no poise, and no purpose, but I would have so much fun knowing how happy they’re making my inner child!

What’s the point?

Why risk not being taken seriously in public in favour of feeling like we’re kids again?

Well, I remember when I was little and I would beg my parents to let me wear my princess costume at any chance I got. It would always be my first choice, over comfort, over propriety, over my school uniform. I would throw a tantrum, refuse to cooperate, and create a scene because it’s the only thing my stubborn self wanted to wear. I can’t remember the last time I was that excited to wear anything! And though I know it’s not functional to behave that way as an adult, it couldn’t hurt to have an item of clothing that you love that much.

Now we look into our wardrobes, and we see clothes that we wear when it’s warm/cold, or when we have an interview, a date, or a night out. All our clothes have a purpose, or an appropriate setting in which they’re intended for. We don’t have fun clothes that we bought because we literally wouldn’t be able to breathe if we didn’t own them. And though that’s how life works as you mature, I think it’s quite sad that we have to sacrifice fun in clothing because we need to become functioning members of society. But who’s to say that we have to forget about our inner children in order to do this? Can we not find small ways to appease the littler versions of ourselves through the things we wear?

Acceptance of Aging

I am not a new person, but overnight, I became an adult. I don’t know how it happened, I have a sneaky suspicion that it’s got something to do with that pesky calendar. But, in my opinion, you can spend the rest of your life averting your eyes every time you walk past a clock, or you can forgive time for ticking on. I may not be fully prepared to accept the passage of time just yet, but I’d rather devote my energy to appeasing little me in my adult outfits than crying over a photo album or an attempt to build a time machine.

We may not control the speed at which time escapes us, or the number of days we have left (not to be morbid), but we can always choose what to wear. And if I can only see the younger version of myself in my clothes, then so be it! I’d rather see her in my clothes than not at all!