The courage behind making a fashion statement

There are two types of people, my daughter insists: those who get dressed, and those who make a statement.

The rest of us just hope our socks match and that no one notices we’ve been wearing the same “good jeans” since 2012.

I do agree with this. For some, fashion is not merely clothing: it is identity, expression and, occasionally, a shocking revelation.

These are the individuals who can turn a trip to the grocery store into what appears to be a runway debut.

Hats are involved. Layers are involved. Confidence, above all, is involved.

Which raises the question: why does fashion play such a large role in some people’s lives?

Part of it is communication. Before a word is spoken, an outfit has already introduced you.

It can say, “I am creative”, “I am successful”, or “I found this on sale and I will not apologise”.

For some, clothing is a fluent, even poetic language.

Then there’s control. In a world that is increasingly unpredictable, choosing what to wear can feel like reclaiming a small, but meaningful, piece of order.

You may not be able to control the economy, traffic, or your neighbour’s karaoke habits, but you can control whether today is a linen day, a leather day, or a pajama one.

Of course, from the outside, things can look confusing. We have all seen outfits that make us pause mid-step.

Attire that raise gentle, internal questions: is that intentional? Is that even comfortable?

There is often a moment where you wonder whether the wearer owns a mirror, or whether they have simply chosen to ignore it entirely.

But here’s the thing: they absolutely know what they look like. In fact, they probably look exactly how they intended to.

The difference is not awareness. It’s courage.

It takes a certain boldness to walk out the door wearing something that invites attention, commentary, or the occasional double take from a passing stranger holding a loaf of health bread.

And perhaps that’s where fashion earns its place. Not in the perfectly coordinated outfits or the ever-changing trends, but in the willingness to be seen.

To take up space. To say: “This is me today”, even if “today” involves neon colours, oversized sunglasses and shoes that appear to defy both gravity and good sense.

Meanwhile, the rest of us will continue quietly rotating our reliable favourites, nodding respectfully at the peacocks among us, occasionally wondering if we, too, could pull off something outrageous.

We probably could. We just don’t have the shoes for it.