In search of signature style

I have tried to answer the essential question of “who am I” through clothes.

I am a sucker for any book, magazine, or website that promises to unearth my signature style. I believe that if I could finally wrestle my aspirations and deeply personal clothing choices into an abstract category like “classic”, “bohemian” or “rocker chick”, that I could drill down to the essence of who I am. I could make small and large decisions based on what clothes I chose to wear and how I choose to present myself to the world.

Anna Sui

Balmain

Michael Kors

Honing in on a signature style is also a practical concern. Once I figure out who I am, I don’t have to waste time or money on clothes that are only going to end up in the charity pile.

Some would counsel me to look within for signature style. However, there is a chasm between what I like and what looks good on my body.

Let’s take minimalism for example. I love its strictness and austerity. There is also a purism, sincerity and clarity that don’t tolerate silly embellishment. It begs the observer to take the wearer as she is.



Jill Sander



Nevertheless, I haven’t found a way to make minimalism to work with the architecture of my body which demands adornment. I’ve even tried minimalism through color…say rocking a monochromatic look with a mix of textures. But I somehow want to add something to it, a cuff bracelet, a statement necklace or peacock feathers on the shoes.

Magazines often encourage a woman to look in her closet for style inspiration.

When I look at my closet, I find that I am many women. The leather leggings sit on the shelf just beside the pink floral skirt from Talbots. The multi-strand gray pearl necklace perches beside the mixed metal choker in my jewelry box. My closet is the proverbial onion with each layer promising to get closer to the core.

After hundreds, perhaps, thousands of dollars later, I’m no closer to the answer to my question than when I was a teenager endlessly searching for myself in the pages of fashion magazines.

But maybe there is no answer to the question. Maybe it’s the journey (and the sequins) that counts.