Authenticity can be perceived in various ways by different people. Some argue it’s always good to be authentic; others think you need to take the context into account. In “Finders and Keepers,” Melody Lew focuses on how people judge others based on preconceived authenticity and assumptions. Yet authenticity isn’t one constant state; what one perceives as authenticity depends on the context, person, and situation. It's easier to manipulate a picture to make it less authentic than a notebook where you can write and express your most authentic self. A piece of technology that has made a huge impact on my life and my ability to express my most authentic self is clothing. However, this can be taken many ways and some may even disagree and say the photo is more genuine given no alterations are made.
Clothing has been a prime source of expression for me over the years. Despite physical appearance not necessarily defining a person, for most people, clothing is the first thing to catch one’s eye and leave an impression. Someone wearing a completely black outfit with rips, metal chains, bold makeup, and piercings may be perceived differently from someone wearing a pink dress with sparkles and rainbows. My style has changed drastically over the years; I even have some regrets when I look back at old photos of me. There was a point in my life when I thought I could wear skirts and jeans or mixed patterns and call it fashion. Maybe there is someone who can pull that kind of style off, but that’s the beauty of it—if that’s what makes them feel most authentic, then so be it.
Clothing has served as an efficient way for me to express myself and influence how others view me. For instance, the religion I previously followed required women to wear a veil or hijab for a significant part of my life. As I grew up, I realized these enforcements had more to do with toxic cultural values than religion as a whole.
I was raised in a somewhat strict family. My mother would wear a hijab and, somehow, it passed down to me. However, she wasn’t nearly as strict or judgemental as my relatives who wore full-on niqabs, an article of clothing that covered your whole body and face, exposing only the hands and eyes. Not even the veil itself, but being modest as a woman was one of the major values my family held. Sometimes, this made me question my authenticity because there was this constant conflict in my head where I thought I had to wear a veil to please others. It felt like it was an obligation and not a choice.
I was taught that women had to cover up to secure their innocence and maintain their “purity.” Dressing otherwise would send the wrong impression. This kind of thinking has challenged my relationship with faith and God because I couldn’t help but wonder why the clothing I wore determined if I was a “bad Muslim.” Covering up wouldn’t necessarily be a pathway to Heaven. Connecting this to Liao’s point on feminism and her struggle to accept her Asian heritage, I felt like I could relate because, despite the two cultures being different, both tend to be more restrictive with a woman’s outward appearance. Wearing a veil should be a choice—a choice made only if a person is truly comfortable and content. Trying to find the distinction between cultural and personal identity is a major question I grapple with because I struggle with it even today.
Lately, I’ve been reaching outside my comfort zone and trying out clothes I wouldn’t have been able to wear even a few years ago. Typically I would wear hoodies, sweatpants, and t-shirts, but lately, I’ve started wearing dresses and clothing that show off my shoulders and midriff. Before, the very idea would have scared me off, yet after experimenting with new styles and other ways to express myself, that negative feeling has started to diminish.
My sense of style has evolved a lot, but it does shift significantly depending on how I’m feeling. There was a point in my life where I didn’t care what I wore and just threw on some sweats and called it a day. In wanting to be comfortable, that choice would be considered authentic. There would be other days when I would exclusively wear grunge or all-black clothing. I looked super edgy, even going as far as to change the color of my hair or get more piercings to fit the grunge aesthetic. However, recently, I started experimenting with all sorts of clothing, following different fashion trends to see what suited me. Sometimes, I want to dress like the stereotypical girly girl who wears pink dresses adorned with a floral pattern. On other days, I want to look like the modern-day businesswoman who donned professional attire, wearing suits, blouses, or long dresses—the formal, preppy girl aesthetic. I feel comfortable in many different trends and don’t feel the need to narrow down my style to one specific aesthetic. I find myself in many styles and outfits and I am not any less authentic for it.
Authenticity is a broad and subjective term. Authenticity can not be defined with one simple definition. Some may say authenticity represents the most true and real version of oneself; others may view it as how one expresses themself despite external pressure. My experience with clothing has given me my own epiphany on the matter, one that has led to a renewed sense of confidence and braveness that helps me be my most authentic self, even if outside the cultural norm or my family’s expectations.