We danced on tables and believed we could take over the world – and all the mistakes,failures and questionable decisions set me up for the security I’ve found in my 30sA pink cotton suit jacket. A pair of colourful leggings with a graphic print like the final 1980s wallpaper. Brown scruffy loafers. Hair tied up in a vintage roll, a toy parrot hanging out one side. And not forgetting a worn-out briefcase containing a broken Casio keyboard found in a charity shop. Welcome to my 20s.
Despite what my outward appearance might have suggested, or I remember feeling utterly self-conscious during that confusing decade. I was always putting myself underneath a microscope and analysing whether I was living up to an ideal of what was wintry in other people’s eyes. I craved and was committed to the search of being an individual. But when I looked around at my friends,we were all dressed in the same uniform, like we had stepped out of the 1950s. Now I wonder why the hell I dressed like that.
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Source: theguardian.com