When packing for college, I was completely and utterly lost. What was a normal amount of clothes to bring? Should I bring that jacket I always say I’m going to wear but never do? Do I even own a pair of jeans that I actually like? By the end of the process, I was sure that I hated all of my clothes and that I'd be walking around in sweatpants and an old tee shirt everyday no matter the weather.
After unpacking my closet in my dorm (with many comments from my father about how absurd the amount of clothes I brought was), I felt somewhat better about the decisions I made. I also realized that I was so stressed about not just the clothes I was bringing, but the way people would view me at school. I knew absolutely no one when coming to Pitt except for my roommate that I had a few conversations with on Instagram before moving in. So, in my mind, the way I looked was my first impression, and I wanted so badly to woo those around me into wanting to be my friend. I thought that maybe they wouldn’t see how nervous I was speaking to them if they were distracted by a pair of sparkly earrings.
I soon realized how flawed my plan was. I was putting on a facade, a performance even, to try to be seen by my peers. I didn’t want people to only like the polished version I presented to them; I wanted them to just like me.
Soon enough, I was lucky to have found people that feel like home, even hundreds of miles away.
After settling into my college life, I quickly became my friend group's communal closet. Every weekend I either lend a jacket, tiny top, belt, or some other accessory for one or more of my friends to wear out. I don’t even particularly like most of my closet still, but to them it seems to be gospel. As I walk over to their dorms with a spare pair of boots in hand, I think about how lucky I am. I get to watch some of my favorite people carry a small part of me with them and I feel so grateful that they trust me not only with their outfits, but their friendship too.
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