Cringe and style

Last week, I was doing a bit of a digital tidying up, which, of course, turned into hours of looking at old pictures and videos. I couldn't help but notice my outfits and how my style has changed over the years. 

And we need to talk about cringe. 

The outfits that made me feel sorry for my younger self weren't the ones you would expect. They were not the over-the-top, bold, or questionable ones, but the ones in which I desperately tried to be someone I wasn't. 

It was an interesting experience because cringe is always about the spectator. The person being cringe doesn't feel it. Cringe is the effect they have on others. 

So, as I looked back at these old versions of myself, I realised something. What makes me cringe now and what might have made other people cringe back then are not the same. 

Which made me wonder: Would you rather feel cringey about yourself or risk the possibility of someone else cringing at you? 

As I always say, experimenting with fashion is a great tool for getting to know yourself better. Comfort and discomfort play a big role because, like with emotions, you might not feel comfortable exploring a specific side of yourself with your clothes. 

But when the emphasis on discomfort is placed on how that will make others feel, the perspective completely shifts. The focus becomes external. You are giving more importance to how you are going to be perceived rather than how you actually feel.

And you are no longer dressing for yourself. You're dressing to avoid judgment. 

In the long run, as those old pictures showed me, it's far more rewarding to be boldly yourself than to shrink yourself to fit other people's expectations. Even if someone else might find it cringeworthy.