My personal style didn’t just appear within years. It was a long path of self-doubt, comparing, competing and many efforts to be as good as a model in Celine ads. I spent plenty of time hating myself, my clothes and cruel fashion; composing list of things “I’ll never wear” and some mythical universal “base wardrobe”, etc. The problem was understandable – I didn’t love myself when I was all in trends. Neither did me when I was totally not.

It all could last forever, until I looked at myself very attentively at the age of 20. I really don’t know what exactly has happened to me, but I began to love myself like never before. Firstly, I realized the main idea of style: it should be just you. The books you read the music you love. The profession you choose. Your lifestyle. Your culture and climate of your country. Your comfort and your roots. Your face and your body. There’s no one except you in your clothes. And, of course, it all must be fun.

Then, another part of my comprehension of style is personality. I mean, leaning not only on what you like and what you are, but on what makes you look especially better. In simple terms, what fits you. Personally, it occurred to me, that my face is my main “part” of the outfit. My face and my body are unique. They require a conscious way of dressing, that would make me feel better, not sad that I’m not fashionable enough.

So, I worked in that direction. I studied my face. Geometric lines of it, suitable colors, fabrics. While I was realizing my face, I discovered a lot of things I haven’t noticed before. I changed my hairstyle for the first time in my life. I reassumed my love for big earrings, which go very nice with my new hair. I rejected fear of being misunderstood or ridiculed in my clothes. I finally bought mom’s jeans, because they’re cozy (recently I was afraid to look like a potato in it; well, I’m not). I started to wear a scarf because of my always aching neck – it gives a little arty effect that I, as a frustrated artist, appreciate a lot. I even plan to get a beret. I couldn’t even think of it 3 years ago.

I am also done with the idea of uncomfortable styling. I live in the country where winter is about 6 month per year*, so we all envy seeing Carrie Bradshaw walking down the street in fur and almost barefoot. I can’t even imagine that, for ex., in October. I won’t even try. I dress in warm coat, hat and high boots, because it’s fucking cold outside.

I don’t pretend anymore. I look like I really am. That’s what my personal style is.