Sheryl
Sep 6, 2020
Updated: Sep 21, 2020
Styling a vibrant floral dress ft a dramatic thought purge of a 23-year-old.
I have long admired Camilla's designs: I think her prints are a work of art! Unique and dramatic paintings that tell stories- be it of the present reality or that of an ethereal world. Sales got the better of me and I splurged on this birthday treat.
Anything Kimono-like, I love- Kimono-style cuts, dresses, and their exquisite floral prints. While florals usually are a girlish outcry, there is something about these details, the gold lining, the vibrant colours of blossoming petals that I find complement my boyish side with a nice thin overlay of femininity. Not to mention, the dress was more comfortable than most of my 'normal' clothes.
At the age of 9, when my aunt turned 16, I remember being at awe at the idea of a 'sweet 16'. A milestone that would mark me as a mature, independent-ish teen. Well, mature enough to be able to dress up whenever I want, but still young enough to have a head filled with fantasies and emotions.
17 was to me, the height of maturity in my adolescent years. Other than the triumph of receiving my driving license and reuniting with my childhood besties, 18 disappeared quite quickly.
The year I was to become an 'adult'. Hopeful, young, free. Kind of like the sweet 16 of my twenties.
The year I was to receive the fabled 'key'. Though before that year I did not even know of such a thing!
Something about it screams 'milestone!'.
According to my calculations (which by the way, have gone rather awry), by the age of 23 I would've had my identity nailed, a clear direction in life, with a sparkling start to a wonderful career. I would be a 'successful' young adult.
In this world, where it now seems to be a necessity to achieve said success at as young an age as possible, exacerbated by social media- the billowing sleeves and the drama of this dress reflected the drama that I have been playing in my head.
Of spectacularly explosive emotions,
of fear and extreme admiration for this colourful world,
of constantly questioning oneself and rewriting the story.
"So what if I don't like my course? It's just a stepping stone to many other possibilities!" was what teenage me would reply to any career questions as I was quite adamant that everything I had planned was 'correct' and if I follow that path, it would lead to 'success'.
It has taken me all these years to realise that ironically, conforming is easy. It is straying off the path, hunting for those breadcrumbs in the fog that is particularly scary.
And turning 23 has seemingly landed me at these crossroads. Evidently, I still have a long way to go.
-Sheryl