the pages of my memoir are clothes not paper
Embedded in the grain of fabrics you’ll find my most poignant memories. It’s a magical mutation that happens, like cells and genes that collide together because of some agent in the environment or inexplicable damage, except in most cases it happens to me even in positive circumstances. Just as the smell of wet rubber can trigger kindergarten memories or a sound can remind me of my mother’s laugh, so does the blue navy tie I wore as a child. Sure, photographs or other senses can trigger a memory powerfully, but clothes feel especially absorbing, fantastical, and long-lasting. Unlike a sound or smell or taste, clothes are not as ephemeral. Instead, they are tangible and hold history. And I’m referring more so to the personal history the wearer magically imbues to the fabric. The effect of remembering can last as long as you wear the clothing piece—and beyond. And, the surreal experience envelops all of you because you are indeed wearing the memory, and dare I say, the feeling captured in the memory.
About a week ago, I went to New York. For better or for worse, I had long since romanticized the idea of being in this city —I blame watching old-white-men-romanticizing-nyc movies as a teen/college student. But born and living in LA, I had also begun to develop a love/hate relationship with New York city. I longed to experience the hustle and bustle I kept hearing about. I longed to be anonymous in a city where so many people walk on the streets till 4am. I longed for the impetus that NYC sweeps through each day after day. It all seemed unreal or overblown. I didn’t actually trust it.
So, “planning” for this trip I didn’t have many expectations, mainly because I am both bad at predicting social situations and because I really was open to anything the city had to give to me (to avoid disappointment). As is standard practice for me, I left the task of packing to the night before. I somewhat procrastinated methodically because I had an idea of how I wanted to pack and it wouldn’t have required much planning or coordinating. I knew going to New York was going to be altering. It felt serendipitous, too. After not having a full time job for a whole year in 2023, I was amazed I was able to plan a costly trip (NYC is pricey 😭) by myself, for myself! All around, I knew I would want to capture the moment but not necessarily with photos. It was then I knew, no matter the shortness of my trip, I needed to use my clothes as pages of a journal to imprint the various memories and feelings and evoke them later on.
In previous trips, I’ve found this practice to be both a useful packing trick and helpful journaling hack. As a lackluster occasion dresser, I tend to rely on packing clothes that I think will do well with multiple wears. Oftentimes, I will rely on packing clothes I had worn the week before if I liked the outfit composition and colors. This relieves a lot of stress and time. Most importantly, however, I think about the kind of items that I’d like to be imbued with a positive moment in time. I think about the harshest and most difficult times in my life and I can still remember the sweat pants I wore at the hospital or the sweater that was constantly dried with snot and tears. These were moments outside of my control, at a time I did not have the headspace to really choose what I wanted to wear; and today, these clothes are not part of my rotation but in fact stored away inside a box at storage. For trips, where the point is to have joyous, exciting moments, I like to take the opportunity to choose clothes I can often rewear and feel joyful, wonder, excitement or some other positive feeling I want to remember fondly. I want to wear that feeling to visually embody it as well.
So what did I pack when I decided to use my clothes as my journal?
I took 2-3 pieces of clothes that were versatile, aka layerable and colorfully muted but pretty. While I would consider these to be statement pieces, I wanted them to also be reliable and multi-purposeful. I find that choosing something that stands out too much when going on a trip leaves me feeling discombobulated, self-conscious, and misaligned with myself, especially if it’s the first time I’ve worn it in a long time. So, I selected items I had worn right before the trip, knowing already how they felt when I was wearing them here in LA.
1. a tank
Hozweiler ribbed tank with asymmetric straps in butter yellow
2. a walking shoe
Collina Strada/Uggs collab spikey shoe
3. a shirt
Prada button up shirt in dusty blue
Jewelry and accessories helped me mix and move around my outfits for the specific aesthetic I wanted. If I wanted more edge, I wore my Justine Clenque ring and dog chain; if I wanted a softer, quirky look, I wore my La Manso ring and “C” choker.
1. Rings
Justine Clenquet spike ring in silver
La Manso ring in green
2. Chains
dog chain in silver
Floating World “C” choker silver with silk purple ribbon
I chose 2-3 pieces that were easy to pack and wear. The idea here was to help me relive the pleasant moments I had already made wearing these pieces and harness some of that positive feeling throughout the trip. These pieces have easily become my go to pieces when I feel stuck or not as confident. It was a risk to take in case my trip would’ve completely sucked, but because it was only a few days, I thought it was worth it to try and it paid off!
1. Heaven x Kiko sneakers in blue
2. Upcycled gingham Perry Ellis top
3. bloomer shorts
Lastly, I chose the specific items taking the chance to use garments I had not yet taken to another location or environment, bonding memories of a far away land to them. The wonderful thing about clothes is that they are not the same piece of fabric twice, not even when we wear uniforms. The moments that we live daily shift and so does our clothes. I love wearing the clothes I already own and giving it a new place in my heart and memory by wearing them when going on exciting trips. It feels more authentic to my life if I wear my cotton trousers than if I were to buy specific ones just for single-use on a trip. And yes, our clothes can haunt us (sometimes, literally), or they can protect us. They can hold chaos, but they can also nurture us as we experience new things.