dressed to die
design, depression and the portal of not fitting in
dear soul,
triggerwarning: suicide and depression
ever had the feeling of not fitting in? yeah, trick question.. omg, imagine you really never did.. like never ever felt misplaced, lost or out of touch.. sounds better than it probably is but anyway, let’s look at it from a fashion perspective. we’re in the realm of sizing today which feels more like a jungle for a lot of us. up until this day, i always have to check my shoe size twice for US and UK sizes. don’t get me started on what 1 2 or 3 means instead of european sizing. every brand has their own sizing scale depending on the country they want to target the most. some brands even design their garments to exclude sizes on purpose while others give their all to offer a wide range. and yes, it’s okay you feel frustrated and annoyed (girl, same) and on the other side: does it really matter then?
trick question, again. it does but it also really doesn’t matter then. sizing in the textile industry is someone’s measured and designed perception of the world that you’re willing to agree on, to collaborate, to create and compromise with. that’s all - that simple. yet, i know that a number comes with certain associations and they weigh heavy. the size is so much more than said number: it’s a narrative, it’s status, it’s a feeling and it can be addicting. and you’ve might have guessed it: i was addicted.
finding our peers, the tribe, is a primal need of ours. fitting in is as urgent as food to survive. the threat of being alone makes us do the most audacious things (and yet the most audacious thing to do is being yourself but that’s for later). from joining running or knitting clubs, to cults and radical religion - as long as we feel a sense of community everything seems to be allowed and possible. in my case, the threat of being alone made me become an extremist of fitting in - i shaped, i carved, i molded myself into an what felt like an accepted form. i designed myself according to the outside. on a physical level i’ve been on and off diets since my body has shown some curves. on a mental level i either shut down completely or dreamed myself away with brands that i’ve never seen let alone touched irl. on a spiritual level i didn’t know what my path looked like in the industry that i felt so noticed yet alienated at the same time. things got worse when i did my yoga teacher training.
i felt like i was too superficial for the yoga bubble and too sensitive for the fashion bubble and then it became even worse. i was single for the first time after an almost decade long relationship. i was living alone for the first time. someone really important to me died. we were in our second lockdown. besides feeling lonely for a long time, i was actually alone for the very first time.
so i became sick. severely sick. sick in like depression. sick in like jumping out of my colorful 4th floor apartment’s balcony is an actual option i considered - sick. sick in like sleeping 3-4 hours a night and spending 2 hours to gather the strength moving from my bed to my 2m away standing work desk. and. no. one. knew.
that disease is called highly functional depression, meaning that the sufferers are likely to operate as usual and are able to complete their daily tasks and responsibilities.* and in fact, i made it look easy while my inside was at dis-ease. i made my life look colorful while i was faced with the blackest darkness inside.** and all because i wanted to fit in.
how i made it out? i had a call at the job i was so desperate to leave.
storytime: back then i worked as a stylist in a company that provides personal styling and curated shopping via mail and phone. i had 10-30 calls a day, all felt the same kind of minor importance. in hindsight, i’m pretty sure that this one call was specifically meant for me. the call started as insignificant as any other one. he was looking for a suit and had never used a service like this before. i introduced the concept, asked for his measurements, color and pattern preferences, his budget - the usual. i sensed that he was in a chatty mood and i had some time to spare so we started talking beyond. turns out, he was a refugee living in germany for several years already, working hard, learning the language, putting himself out there and this discussed suit was supposed to be for his appointment at court that determines whether or not he’s allowed to stay. we talked about community, charity, compassion and life. usually, these calls last for 5-10 min. but we talked for 30 minutes. i remember ending this call with best wishes, a smile on my face (which was rare these days) and spending a lot of time on his outfit with the note that he may please keep me posted how it all turns out.
and two weeks later, he called. he called me right after he called his parents. he called to thank me for my help. he called me because without the perfectly fitted outfit he said he wouldn’t have felt as strong, resilient and powerful as he did. he wanted to let me know that i’m doing a great job and that i should keep going. after that final call i burst into tears and called in sick. that interaction changed the trajectory of my life. that call was a spark. and he doesn’t even know he lit up my life again. and i don’t even remember his name - but i guess some angels don’t need names.
it reminded me that fashion is more than fabric. it’s power. it’s belonging. it’s transformation. apparently not only in service for others but also available for myself. so i stopped trying to make a circle fit into a square.
it has been 4 years now. instead of molding myself, i carved out a spot in the industry for and by myself. i piled my last bits of bravery, joy and love and made a decision to choose myself and my life over and over and over again. i’ve overcome myself over and over again. i’ve mastered my own mind over and over again. i’ve built a safe house brick by brick. and now i design under a household name - my own. clothes are forever my tool to communicate the values being lived under this roof. they drive this growth, the change and the love for myself to move forward. turning all that pain into power. healing not to handle the trauma (when depression already was the response to that trauma) but healing to handle the joy. all i needed was authority, audacity and authenticity. and i decided to embody all three. i decided to take on ownership, i decided to take up space. i decided to be my whole circle self.
i decided to communicate what i so strongly believe in: the power of fashion. the inherent ability of fashion to transform, to befriend darkness and light and create from there. btw. this is also the reason why i love light colors and suits so much. whenever i need a reminder of the powerful lighthouse that i am and that i designed. the fashion industry holds the power to be a great tool and not fitting in is the portal. it my door and i was the key. i was never meant to fit in and that’s my gift and so are you and so is yours. we want your way to design or combine clothes, we want your pov, we want you. (universe bless, i didn't put make up on before and listened to the new doechii song while writing this )
long live,
lea
footnotes - information and help:
*https://www.medicalnewstoday.com/articles/high-functioning-depression#definition
*https://www.who.int/news-room/fact-sheets/detail/depression
**https://www.deutsche-depressionshilfe.de/start
**https://www.eaad.net
**https://www.selfapy.com