The Power Of The Perfect Outfit

I am not overly ostentatious, confident or loud in most social situations (unless a great deal of wine has been consumed). For whatever reason, and I’m sure my future therapist will figure it out, I am most intimidated by people my own age. To be specific I’m most intimidated by English people my own. From my time in the hostel, precisely 11 days, I managed to get to know other Europeans, a few people younger than me and a few people who were older than me. The group I have found the most terrifying are the group of of 21 year olds living and working in the hostel. This is possibly due to my own insecurities, possibly because they are super cliquey and drunk quite a lot of the time.

Anyway, I was doing a very good job of not being noticed by the cool kids until a particular item of clothing was worn. Nothing striking nor scandalos but a rather plain red hoody with my netball teams crest and my netball allocated nickname; Briggsy. This one, rather inconspicuous, piece of clothing made me a new person. Not that I changed the way I was acting. I was still quiet and unnoticeable. However it somehow changed the way everyone else saw me. Every single person who passed me called me Briggsy, I received high fives and smiles from people previously happy to ignore me. It was one of the most bizarre experiences of my life. Never before have I believed in the power of an outfit (and really I should because I have an undiagnosed addiction to glossy magazines that testify to the existence of such a phenomenon). In my naïveté I thought this power would come from the perfect little black dress or a pair of Louboutins. Nope.

The magazines have got it wrong.

You just need a hoody with a nickname and you’re there!

And from now on you can all refer to me as Briggsy


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