When clothing is no longer a compromise

For decades, clothing was a means of adaptation and camouflage for me. Ties, functional clothing—everything but a hint that I existed. In the few moments when I was allowed to appear, at least in secret, it had to be a dress or skirt, and of course, nylon tights. Neither option was an expression of my personality, but rather a means of functioning in an environment that didn't know me—or wasn't allowed to know me.

So, of course, the first two times I was in Basel, it had to be a skirt and a dress. I've already reported on the vulnerability I felt in the dress on my second visit. For Europa-Park, I had, of course, chosen jeans for functional reasons. But also afterwards, on girls' nights out, on visits to the Schirn—pants, pants, pants. They gave me security, they made me feel better able to blend in. Of course, I chose my outfits freely, and I was, and still am, happy with them, but the thoughts of security and blending in were always present.

The more often I was allowed out, the more I dared to go without pants. I began to experiment, and of course, I had to find my own style, as every woman does at some point in her life. But for me, it was quite late, and I couldn't claim to be a growing teenager, even though that's all I was really about.

As my self-confidence grew, so did my freedom – my freedom to live how I wanted and, of course, to dress how I wanted. It was a ridiculously banal realization: I could be Nicole in jeans and sneakers just as much as in a dress with pumps. Of course, it had been like that before, and it was actually quite obvious, but I began to live it. I dressed for myself, not for others or to fulfill potential expectations.

Now I decide based on whether I find an outfit functional, whether I think it's appropriate, and whether I feel like it. I like lace tops at the moment, so I wear them. I rarely feel like wearing jeans these days, so what? I don't have to. Melanie goes shopping for the weekend in jeans and sneakers because it suits her; I go in a skirt and pumps because it suits me at the moment. It's not a question of whether women do it that way, but rather whether I feel like it.

And that's precisely what freedom is: not the what, but the why. Not the expectation, but the decision. Clothing continues to accompany me—but it no longer defines me. It's not protection, not camouflage. It's an expression of mood, of desire, of everyday life, and sometimes even a statement.

I don't have to prove anything. I don't have to hide anything.

See you soon

Your Nicole