my beef with *vacation wardrobes*

I feel like,

but maybe this reaches you before the “here are the 385 items I packed for the perfect euro summer” type of newsletter. and you might not even be subscribed to shit like that but this platform earns from affiliate links too, so it’s hard to ignore content like this. brendahashtag to the rescue!!!!!! deinfluencing by the ultimate influencer. no but I am serious. first of all, euro summer is a made up concept. euro summer is staying in an airbnb with big white tile floors and a mini fridge, the AC concept of choice is opening the windows at 6am for a breeze, a small citroen car whose warning lights on the dashboard are all on, dinner is getting baguette and tomatoes at the carrefour, no cutlery in the airbnb, and a long silent walk to the rocky beach where your flip-flops keep getting stuck in your flowy beach pants (this is not an affiliate link trust me) and you get there and realise you left the plastic water bottles in the citroen. the most entertaining dinner activity is playing uno and you make friends with the lady at the pharmacy who gets you the best mosquito spray of your life and you have a scar from a jellyfish but the friendly older italian couple shared their peaches with you and you scratch the car on the way home but the guys at hertz don’t give a fuck when you return it. for all of which you don’t need a moodboard outfit. you know?

and I am all for exploring new places and drawing inspiration from them. I am also for buying something in a local shop and supporting the economy. however, the feeling of getting somewhere and feeling the need to change your whole vibe, or to cosplay someone else, is where I draw the line. I’ll tell you an embarrassing story from when I was 12. I am not judging my 12 year old self but I cringe at the experience of being insecure and thinking clothes are gonna change that.

it was my first summer camp abroad, either two or three weeks long (which feels like six months when you’re 12) and I went to the UK with my best friend to learn english and play sports. we were very innocent, I did have a boyfriend already but all we did was send letters to each other during class and a few times we held hands in the cinema. I was very skinny, no sign of boobs, was getting braces that fall. I look at myself and the brenda I see is so beautiful, a child! I was not wearing makeup yet, there was no social media, my clothes were jeans, a gap hoodie, I had some converse sneakers that I loved, I didn’t know about expensive brands, what mattered in school was being good at table tennis and having your own mobile phone to text your crush. I was super excited about the summer camp, I really wanted to improve my english to be able to read the gossip girl book series in english, which I was obsessed with, and I wanted to learn hockey. the day we arrive, my world shattered a bit. I had never been super popular, but I had social skills from moving schools every year of my life up until then, so I mostly knew how to blend in or adapt to whatever the vibe was in a new environment, or at least deflect with humour. nobody cared about gossip girl or hockey at the summer camp, the boys were rating how hot the girls were, who were all wearing push up bras and mini skirts, and their english was so much better than mine. I didn’t understand any of the jokes and felt sidelined and like a loser. my friend, who was a lot more secure in herself and pretty unbothered, was just excited to play her sports. I, on the other hand, on a mission to change everything about myself, immediately, and went to the teachers and demanded my pocket money. we either got 100 pounds for the entire stay or for every week there, I can’t recall, but somehow I convinced the woman to give me my cash in an envelope and I forced my friend to go to the town with me for my big makeover. I needed to be sexy!!!!!!!!!!!!! looking back this all sounds so ridiculous but I was in solving mode and the only way I could think of getting my mojo back (or acquiring some in the first place) was to dress exactly like the popular girl. I needed: a micro mini jeans skirt, a push up bra, a tank top with lace straps. I was curating my new persona, within a day. honestly applaudable if I wasn’t 12 and after the attention of 12 year old boys. but this was my first taste of reinvention. you know the scene in 500 days of summer where she loves her long her but also “how easily she cut could if off and feel nothing”, this was the beginning of boy dye hair, of dying clothes in my parents bathroom (and ruining them ofc), of thinking am outfit would change the way I felt about myself, a train I rode for my entire teenage years, which I think many of us can relate to. and that day, I walk out of the store with my push up bra and lace tank top and micro mini skirt and felt brand new. my friend shook her head, but she just didn’t get it!!!!!!!!!!!!!! the boys will never like you! go off to play your boring hockey, I will be in the smoking section!!!!!!!!

sadly, the next day I had to realise that not much had changed about my perception of self. I still didn’t get the boys attention, I still didn’t get all the jokes, and I was still awkward, just now in a micro mini skirt. when I got home, my friendship with that girl kind of wore off (because I was probably ignoring her to hang out with other mini skirt girls I’d never see again after the camp), and when I unpacked my slut clothes at home I hid them deep in my closet and never took them out again until I moved out at 15 and donated them. they represented something I was shameful about, that I can only put into words two decades later. it had to do with not knowing who I was, craving acceptance, attention, deep insecurities and wanting to be cool. it takes years and life experience to know that “cool” has very little to do with clothes, and everything to do with being kind, caring, knowledgable, interested, calm, happy, driven, forgiving, all the traits that I can’t expect my 12 year old self to have on her first time abroad. but somehow this cringe moment of unpacking these clothes in my bedroom and looking at them like they were strange aliens, even though I didn’t have the words back then to describe my feelings, I knew I didn’t want to repeat what I had tried to do, ever again.

and you’re asking what the fuck does that have to do with my vacation wardrobe!!!!!! it has everything to do with knowing who you are, with not needing a new outfit every weekend, with striving for experiences and not moodboards. all of your clothes can be vacation outfits if you can wear them with flip-flops or a bikini underneath. nobody will remember your sunset dress and your matching nails but everyone will remember if you beat them at uno and shared some perfect peaches at the beach!!!!!!!!!!

so I know with my massive closet maybe it sounds a bit delulu that I am preaching about personal development rather than establishing your personal style, and of course both can coexist. you can be a deep meaningful person liking prada. you just can’t expect clothes to change you.

thank you for reading <3 have a great week.

if you are not caught up, I just interviewed heidi klum for 032c and she was very fab, read here. I also just reached 900.000k streams on spotify with my podcast brendawareness, I hope you’re all caught up :) and I am also on youtube:

bye xxxxx