All I wanted in middle school was a black North Face fleece jacket.
The combination of braces, glasses, and a bit of extra weight made my teenage years especially awkward. Relocating to Summit, New Jersey, in the middle of seventh grade didn't help. I was an outsider in an upscale area, and my unique name only highlighted my differences.
Popular brands like Abercrombie, Seven jeans, and Ugg boots seemed like a ticket to fitting in. As an immigrant, I thought these brands might help me blend in, but they were too pricey for our budget.
After buying a house in a good district, my parents had to be frugal. We shopped at affordable stores like Gap and Old Navy, occasionally finding a deal at Marshalls.
I became obsessed with owning a North Face fleece, the symbol of cool. When my mom found one on sale, I was thrilled.
But upon unwrapping it, I realize it was purple, not black, and too big. I couldn't hide my disappointment, failing to see the effort and love behind her gesture.
It was just another reminder that I didn't fit in.
Fast forward to motherhood, and everything about how I viewed clothes changed.
Empowering my daughter became my new focus, aiming to nurture her into a confident and self-assured individual.
From the beginning, I steered away from traditional gendered clothing, opting instead for a variety of gender-neutral options. As she began to walk, I introduced a Montessori wardrobe to encourage her to choose her own clothes.
Wanting to foster her independence, I let her wear whatever she wanted, even if it seemed silly. Ballet leotard to the park? Go for it!
I told myself it was about boosting her confidence. But deep down, I was trying to protect her from any discomfort, making up for my own past.
My journey into motherhood coincided with a poignant moment of realization brought on by the popular series "Breaking Bad."
Watching the show after my second daughter was born, I couldn't help but notice the overwhelming presence of purple in Marie Schrader’s (one of the main characters) life. She always wore purple clothes, and most of her home, even her tea kettle, was purple.
Through internet research, I learned that the color choice was intentional. The pervasive purple represented Marie's deep-seated need for control and a sense of superiority, a theme that resonated with me more than I expected.
It also highlighted the way we attach meanings to certain objects or colors, using them as tools to project a certain image to the world.
Suddenly, I started seeing purple all around me—my yoga mat, phone cover, water bottle. Even the sneakers I had recently purchased were a bright shade of purple.
It was as if the universe was echoing back this theme of purple, reminding me of its significance in my own story.
Reflecting on these threads, I've come to understand that the significance we place on clothes and colors can shape our experiences and perceptions.
As a kid, I put too much importance on clothes. I blamed my parents for my unhappiness, which was really about not fitting in.
As a parent, I realize my job isn’t about making my kids happy all the time. It's about helping them deal with life's ups and downs.
My mom recently surprised me with another purple jacket, this time a gift for her granddaughter.
Now, the sight of my daughter running confidently in her purple jacket serves as a gentle reminder that true belonging comes from owning your story, not just blending in with the right clothes.
Namaste,
Tamara
Thank you for reading! Did you know that liking this post or leaving a comment helps it find more readers? If you are reading this as an email, there is a heart button at the top and bottom of this email. Click on it and it will take you to the Substack website where you can also leave a comment. If you are reading it online, again, just click the heart button at the top or bottom of this post. I appreciate your support so much!