One of my earliest memories is of my mother, sitting cross-legged with a yarn of wool wrapped around her knees, patiently untangling it to roll into balls. She would do this just so she could knit
me a sweater.

She has always been creative but there was something different about the way she made those sweaters. Behind every stitch of those, it felt like a special kind of affection. I still have one of those warm dresses, white, with red flowers sewn on, and a matching cap and socks.

My idea of fashion really started there. With her. Every piece she made had something special, maybe a rabbit, a flower, or even a mix of colours that stood out. And not just in winter, even my summer clothes had little beads, embroidery, or a stitched motif here and there.

I think that’s what made me fall in love with clothes that have a bit of design on them. As a kid, I wouldn’t wear plain tees. Everything had to have a print, a pop of colour, something interesting.

And honestly? Not much has changed. I still prefer colour over neutrals, long sleeves over sleeveless, and baggy fits that just feel right. My wardrobe today is filled with options that feel like “me.”

I remember once I went shopping and unknowingly bought three different outfits, all in pink. That’s when it hit me how drawn I’ve always been to this colour. It wasn’t just a hue I liked, it became a part of my personality.

Over time, fashion has become a part of my daily life, but I won’t lie, sometimes it confuses me too.
One moment I love having a full cupboard, and the next I ask myself, do I even need this much?

I often think about how much the fashion industry produces. Are all these clothes ever fully used or appreciated? The waste, the overproduction, the way a basic need turned into a necessity, and that necessity into a form of entertainment. It sometimes makes me feel disconnected from it all. There’s an over exaggeration of trends, endless cycles of what’s in and out. But then again, when I enjoy fashion, I really enjoy it. It’s a dilemma I still haven’t figured out.

But maybe that’s what makes fashion beautiful too. It’s not always about what’s right or wrong. It’s personal. It’s emotional.

Looking back, I realise fashion has never just been about what I wore. It’s about how I felt. It was love, and expression. From my mother’s handmade sweaters to my self-styled comfort fits, fashion has been my way of saying “this is who I am.”