While packing for freshman year the summer of 2022, I brought everything—from quote books to monogrammed wine glasses. A silver leather jacket, eccentric sneakers, cheetah-print tops, colorful sandals, and chunky jewelry have all sat in my wardrobe for the past three years, traveling with me to every room I’ve lived in at BC.
Thanks to my inability to clean out my room, countless miscellaneous garments remain in my tiny dorm to this day. When people see the extent of my wardrobe, they’re astounded to learn that I’ve moved six times since freshman year. Somehow, I’ve managed to move in and out of each one while only letting go of a select few items, confirming my true hoarder tendencies.
If you’ve read some of my prior columns, you know that I approach life through a realistic yet overwhelmingly positive lens. But the natural maturation process I’ve undergone at BC has at times felt anything but fair. To be transparent, my time at BC hasn’t necessarily felt entirely on-trend or chic. I’ve consistently grappled with feelings of unworthiness—socially, physically, and academically.
When I moved out of Roncalli Hall in the middle of last year, I vowed to leave behind the frustration, comparison, and stress. These feelings had accumulated around my friendships and self-image during my first semester of sophomore year. But as I hauled all of my clothes into Walsh, I felt detached from the genuine joy I expected and instead harbored pent-up anger toward peers who seemed to navigate college life effortlessly. I let these confusing feelings govern far too many weeks of my brief stint on Lower.
Looking back, the chaotic way I packed away my gargantuan school wardrobe for eight months in preparation for studying abroad now feels symbolic when I reflect on the fresh mental health trends I’m embracing. When I reopened these boxes as I prepared to move off-campus in January, I was struck by how much I’d changed since I last wore many of these beloved articles of clothing—back when I felt uncertain and frustrated in Walsh.
Some of these staples remind me of the constant comfort in Hardey Hall, a sequestered summer school experience in Voute, my rise and fall as a Roncalli princess, or a worrisome stint in Walsh. Other pieces feel more tied to the gratitude studying abroad brought me or to the fresh faces I’ve met on Greycliff. I can’t wait to continue to build my wardrobe with new crazes and fads while holding on to my timeless classics, which I now admire in a new light.
Seasons of life, much like fashion trends, can sometimes feel off. Sometimes outfits don’t work, and you have to pay hefty fees for your overweight storage. Other times, you curate the most show-stopping outfit for a Walsh party. Life comes in waves and trends—sometimes it means heaps of laundry, but it could also bring you the perfect outfit.
If you are feeling out of sorts this year, trust that if skinny jeans can come back in style, your best self will re-emerge too. Time away from my favorite garments has reminded me of the many fond moments of growth and self-discovery I’ve experienced in the last three years. The nostalgia I feel wearing my Newton Bus merch as a second-semester junior transcends my clothing and pushes me to appreciate the second half of my BC journey with more purpose.
My extensive wardrobe represents a litany of lessons derived from each distinct housing arrangement. These small daily reminders in the form of fun outfits push me to trust the confidence I’ve gained from formative BC experiences at every stage.
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