When an old friend I hadn’t seen face-to-face in years suggested getting together, I had the perfect activity for us: I asked her to come to Berkeley, where I was going to school, and browse through the city’s many tiny antique shops and thrift stores with me. We laughed and chatted as we tried on the finery of bygone eras with all the delight of two little girls playing dress up (which, for all intents and purposes, we were). “Look!” I demanded, my voice loud enough that several hipsters glanced up from the racks to give me withering looks. I grabbed my friend’s arm and pulled her over to the most glorious article of clothing I had seen that day. A relic of the eighties, it was a blue sequined dress with a large bow on the shoulder—perfect, I thought, for holiday cocktail parties. My friend, however, looked at the dress and then me with mingled amusement and shock. “What’s wrong?” I could hear the defensiveness in my own voiced as I asked the question.

“Nothing.” My friend picked at a cobalt sequin with a frown. “It’s just...it’s so...not you.”

“Is that all?” I grinned. “That’s the point.”

Now, they say style is a direct reflection of personality, and while I love playing with fashion, I take issue with this idea. We also use fashion to experiment, trying on new identities with every article of clothing. Case in point: the “The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo” collection, which launched with great fanfare at H&M this past December. Consisting of dark colors, distressed fabrics, and copious amounts of leather, the collection evokes the buzzwords “punky,” “strong” and “tough.” The clothes are distinctly anti-feminine, androgynous, even, harking back to the grunge era of the nineties. The waif look of that time, embodied by Kate Moss, is echoed in the rail-thin frame of the badass Lisbeth Salander.

Dragon Tattoo Collection
Courtesy: hm.com

Lisbeth Salander portrayed by Rooney Mara
Courtesy: wmagazine.com

I like layers and combat boots just as much as the next girl, but I have trouble seeing myself attired in the style the pale, pierced models portray. My lack of enthusiasm for the Dragon Tattoo collection, however, is not because the I-don’t-give-a-damn aesthetic is so far out of my comfort zone, but because the look actually falls far too squarely inside it. Throughout high school, my wardrobe consisted of enough layers to withstand a Swedish winter (a la Lisbeth Salander). I was swathed in dark fabrics at all times, and I was not incredibly approachable. While I wasn’t conscious of projecting any particular style, the very act of choosing function over fashion must have meant I was ahead of my time, if the Dragon Tattoo collection is any indication. In fact, I must have been cutting edge, as I was communicating a lack of preoccupation with fashion: I had other priorities, and they all revolved around being a high achiever.

In the past couple of years, my personality hasn’t changed, but my style preferences certainly have. I was—and continue to be—a practical, cerebral kid, more likely to be caught with books than makeup. But after leaving high school behind, I found that along with the new experiences and challenges that college presented, it also gave me the opportunity to completely overhaul my style. Shopping trips were no longer a nuisance, but an experiment of sorts. Instead of going straight for jeans and a sweatshirt, I was all over frilly dresses as if I were lost at sea and ruffled skirts were life preservers. The airiness of chiffon and silk suggested a girly sensibility that I did not necessarily see in myself, but found all the more attractive for its novelty. And last summer, on a visit to Spain, the flamenco dancing costumes I saw seemed to sum up everything I had come to value about clothing: the way it can evoke elegance, romance and femininity. The Spanish influence is ubiquitous in the high fashion world.

Missoni Spring 2012
Courtesy: firstVIEW

Courtesy: vogue.com

As for strength, like beauty, it is in the eye of the beholder. A healthy woman’s body, which flamenco garb celebrates, looks a lot stronger to me than the incredibly slim Salander.

I am also drawn to the flapper style, another trend that has been going strong.

Tiered Embellished Dress, forever21.com, $19.80

The flapper look speaks to carefree decadence, to the subversive adventure of the speakeasy, to the glamour of the era known as the Roaring Twenties. Our current age is not nearly as prosperous as the 1920s were, but the enduring popularity of the flapper indicates a desire to revisit a more lighthearted time and take a vacation from the gloom of twenty first century life.  Again, fashion becomes an escape from the familiar, not necessarily an expression of it. What better way to turn a stressful day upside down than to put on a seriously impractical (but irresistibly frivolous) dress covered with fringe and beads?

As “tough girl chic” becomes more popular, I think the ones who will be drawn to it will not be the “punk” girls (who would probably point out that they can tear and stick safety pins in their own jeans, thank you very much), but young women who are perceived as “girly.” A girly girl who suddenly starts wearing leather and combat boots is no more of a poser than a tomboy who decides to start wearing dresses. Dressing to push your own personal boundaries points to a willingness to take risks, not an identity crisis.

I submit that fashion is not exactly an embodiment of who you are, but an exploration of what you might like to be. It is, ultimately, the same game of dress-up we’ve been playing since childhood. Style isn’t static: although we might be attracted to certain flattering cuts and colors over and over, fashion is really about play, experimentation and getting outside of yourself. Thus, the quiet girl you may expect to be drawn to blanket-like sweaters and jackets in which she can hide herself might actually dream of parading around in pink feathers for a change. And the girl who wears miniskirts to class might decide to throw a leather jacket on, just to see how it looks.