Introduction

Oct 18

At the risk of sounding like a cliche, one of the things that have always fascinated me is fashion. I love everything about it: the design aspect, the process of making, the statement it makes (in a personal scale and in an industrial scale), the people behind it, and the way it reflects a person’s mood, a culture’s values, and how it records time.

Fashion is a silo in which I’ve lived in, but never really could grasp. Growing up (and still today), I watched my mom dress for various functions; putting on stylish outfits for a social event or church, shopping for a new handbag, or dressing down to lounge around the house. The backseat of our mini-van always had her dry-cleaning hanging on the “panic” bar of the car. I watched her fold clothes, press them, and found lint rollers in nearly every room in the house. She stressed how important it is for us to dress well and appropriately, to brush our hair, to never wear flip-flops to school (something I resented in the age of Abercrombie and Fitch, but today I thank her for), and to do laundry correctly.

My younger brother Michael caught the fashion bug early and gathered his group of friends and started a fashion line called “Mickey’s Bistro.” They made a few t-shirts and sold them around school, packaged in little Chinese take-out containers. Suddenly, every other teenager in the suburbs of Kennesaw wore a Mickey’s Bistro tee. Today, he is a senior photographer at a major fashion publication in New York.

My younger sister, Theresa, can work a sewing machine that reminded me of how my paternal grandmother used to make clothes. She made skirts, dresses, and even our PFK aprons - and they were impeccably designed and made. She is also one of those people that is her own self - she dresses unpretentiously while staying chic. She seems to always be on trend, and can pull off wearing things that not many can.

One of Mickey’s Bistro’s signature shirts - packaged in take-out containers

I, on the other hand, haven’t had the best time with fashion. I loved looking at magazines and ripping out pages of beautiful clothes, fabrics, and designs, but I resented having to dress for school, work, or other events. For a long time, dressing was a struggle for me. I didn’t even know where or how to start addressing it (hah!). Was it because I lacked confidence with my body? Did I just have bad taste? Was it because I couldn’t afford the clothes and shoes that I really wanted? Maybe I just didn’t care? The list went on. Dressing became a challenge I was constantly failing and a trigger for a bad mood.

Through high school and college, I made up a fictional woman in my head to get me through being broke and the stress of juggling my school and work schedule. She lived in a comfortable apartment, paid her own bills, drove her own car, wore stylish clothes to her office with a door, and dressed up for dinner with her equally well-dressed boyfriend. She was my aspiration, she was the goal that I worked for. Post-college, I set out to do just that. Sandy (my pup) and I moved from our dumpy college apartment to a nicer apartment in the city with a bigger closet and a washer and dryer. We had a “girls” apartment - we had bookshelves that almost reached the ceiling, throw pillows everywhere, and enough candles to set a house on fire. I started curating my closet and investing in more pricey pieces, now that I had the money. I really thought that this was the trick - get the physical, material things, and the rest would just fall into place.

I had three of my favorite dresses “displayed” on a wall in my bedroom by my closet…each worn only once.

Not the case. The clothes just sat in the closet, gathering dust. Going to the office everyday, I still was a mixture of wet hair, sometimes no make-up, and wrinkled clothes with old beat up shoes. All topped with a grumpy mood because “I had nothing to wear,” I wasn’t a morning person (still not) and the work life I imagined wasn’t coming into fruition. No one really said anything, but whenever I caught my own reflection in the bathroom mirror, I just shrugged it off, as if to say, “it is what it is.”

I knew how to resolve the work situation. I started a side-hustle as an outlet for my creativity. At some point, PFK the business started to grow at a faster pace than I expected. PFK the person, however, while happy about our growth, felt tired and anxious all the time. The small amount of confidence I had in my body hit an all-time low, and I was constantly too exhausted or too angry at the world to do anything about it. Everything piled up, and my partner Keith encouraged me to start seeing a therapist.

Therapy worked wonders. Although I was luckily not diagnosed with anything that is a serious issue, just having someone to talk to and ask the right questions helped immensely. Together, my doctor and I figured out what the real issues are and how to mitigate or resolve them. It wasn’t about whether I should wear make-up or do my hair everyday. It wasn’t about how much I spent on clothes and shoes. It was more about how I felt and how I projected my feelings outward. It was how the inside didn’t match the outside. It was about using the outside to make the inside feel better, and vice-versa. It was how I, as an individual, should stop comparing myself to others around me or to the fictional lady that I made up.

I had to work on re-figuring out what I liked, and being ok with it, despite of what everyone else thinks. And here’s the liberating kicker: apparently, no one actually thinks about what I like! It’s all an illusion - it’s not what everyone thinks, it’s what I think everyone thinks. Comparison kills - and in this world of social media and multi-faceted advertisements, we’re bombarded with images and messages of how we should dress, how our bodies should look, and more, to be perceived as beautiful or just having it together. The truth is, no one is “beautiful” all the time (even Kate Middleton or Beyonce, probably) and no one really has it all together. It’s a highlight reel - pretty pictures designed to give us aspirations and inspiration. In my opinion, our only aspiration should only to be the best versions of who we are as individuals. This whole idea of “having it all” is stupid (yeah, I said it!), because it is an endless quest. Instead, why don’t we just do the things we like, wear the stuff that makes us feel good, and celebrate our small victories and losses. We can use the pretty pictures to inspire us - but we don’t have to replicate it.

I recently found this tweet image on Instagram (I don’t know if this is considered a meme or not, please educate me if you feel like it).

And to this, I say AMEN. If whatever it is you like brings you joy and no harm to others, have at it. If today, your inside feels cute, then why not wear something that tells the world, I feel cute today! Does your cargo shorts and jersey combo bring you joy? Carry on! Does the smell of a pumpkin spice latte and giant scarves make you feel as warm as a burrito? Bundle on, and enjoy your PSL. It’s a seasonal item and you deserve every delicious sip of it without judgement. If today, you feel like being comfortable, throw on your favorite hoodie and stay cozy, my friend.

Today is my birthday. I am 28, and I’m here to report that I’m the happiest I’ve been in a long time. No, everything is not suddenly perfect: I don’t live at the beach in my alpaca farm, I don’t work at a specialty food store and I am still rocking a one-pack abdomen. I still have days where I throw my hair into a bun and call it a day. The difference is that in the last few years, my perspective changed. Sure, I work in a windowless office, starring at a computer everyday, but I come home to a cozy place, to a dog who is so happy to see me that she follows me to the toilet, and to a guy who is my biggest cheerleader. Maybe I complain about the never-ending line at the post office on a weekly basis, but seeing my art in people’s homes make me happy. I will probably never get back to my high-school shape; but my body can now run up to 3 miles (and counting) and do real push-ups, and has endured plenty of sleepless nights, and enjoyed plenty of delicious food! My hair bun is still a bun, now just tied with a floral scarf that I like.

My relationship with fashion, or rather, dressing myself, has changed. Some days I wear a hoodie and yoga pants all day (usually on Fridays). But now I also enjoy waking up and putting an outfit together. Sometimes, for fun, I’ll peruse eBay and buy myself a discontinued Kate Spade dress at a super discounted price, and just wear it around the house. Clothing, once again, became a form of self-expression for me, and dressing became a fun activity instead of a begrudging chore. Shopping became like a treasure hunt - I go to malls, outlets, thrift stores and just tried things that I liked until I found something that made me feel good. Most importantly, I learned to embrace my size and my body. I started buying things in the right size and cut. I learned how to hem things (ok - I only know how to hem things with a hem tape), and looked for a seamstress to help me make things fit better.

As a gift to myself (and hopefully you, too), I am starting a visual journal series called What I Wore. Each week, I plan on sharing a few paintings of clothes that I wore, and maybe a blurb about what I wore, stuff I found on sale, and why I wore it. I hope that you enjoy this new series and continue to follow along.

Also, big thanks to my brother, Michael, and sister-in-law, Tray, who pointed out that I do, in fact, dress like the people in my paintings. Life imitates art, or is it the other way around?

xo, pfk

Patricia Kusumadjaja

Introduction

Week 1