Trash the Aesthetic
by Genevieve Betancourt
Photo Credits of Pexels
Today no one is solely one identity, one culture. If you’ve studied colonization, examined global migration patterns, taken a 23 and Me DNA test, or looked in the mirror, you will find that every person is made up of bits and pieces of the world. While this is all well and good, it’s often quite draining in a society where defining yourself to the rest of the world is so important. As a white-passing Mexican, I’ve found it especially difficult to establish who I am in an environment where a person’s ethnic-ness is determined by stereotypes and misconceptions that force multicultural people to check a box and to diminish their cultural identity to comfort others.
I have found that this responsibility placed on me to define who I am in a way that doesn’t challenge other people’s views of the world has made me obsess over defining everything else about myself. If I got a penny for every time I have taken a personality test, found my house in the Pottermore sorting hat quiz, or spent hours on my monthly horoscope, I’d be able to pay for my entire tuition at Northeastern plus UberEats every meal, every day.
I have found that I’m especially frustrated with being forced to check either the white or Mexican box with my style. Maybe it’s because my style is the only other physical representation of myself that I can give to others, or maybe it’s because my love for fashion is one of the things about myself that I am sure about. Either way, I have spent years forcing myself to conform to a single sartorial genre, switching from classic feminine styles to relaxed grunge looks to minimalist edgy outfits. Every time I think I finally have a closet that speaks to me, that represents who I want to be and be seen as, I’m disappointed. You can see the evidence in my closet: billowy long sleeve tops next to cleavage-emphasizing bodysuits next to thrifted graphic tees.
Photo Credits of Pexels
Eventually, I realized that my style is composed of many style aesthetics, and that the only aesthetic it can really be described as is the “Me” aesthetic, the Genevieve Genre. My closet has evolved over time along with my concept of who I am in this global society, and it’s taken me a long time to realize that my style is just as indescribable by a box as my cultural identity is. It’s made me realize that conforming doesn’t work — you have to embrace everything about yourself, even if it troubles others or challenges their prejudices and biases.
It’s easy to try to fit the smaller things in our lives into categories in the hope that we’ll be able to do the same with our own identities, cultural or otherwise. It’s difficult to embrace “Me” and everything that that entails, but like everything else, I take it one step at a time. I started with settling down with the idea that my style isn’t an aesthetic, it’s “Me,” — sometimes not the most traditional, but always exuding my Genevieve. Embrace the parts of every style aesthetic that speak to you. Embrace all the cultures that are you. Reject the box in every aspect of your life, or even better: trash it. Trash the need to try to define yourself. Trash the aesthetic.
