In a sea of black, I relentlessly choose color. Despite my color-loving ways, I can't deny that black is a classic, can't-go-wrong shade. On the other hand, I'm not even twenty years old. If there is a time to experiment with clothing and colors, the time is now. The other night I was having one of those "I hate my clothes!" moments. I was on the verge of staying in because I was just that distraught until one of my friends came to my room to intervene. Combing through my closet, she observed, "Where are your fall clothes? All of these clothes are for spring!" Redfaced, I took a closer look. Pale pink cardigans among pastel-stripe buttondowns among sky blue sweaters... is it true, I wondered? Am I dressing in the wrong season? I tossed on a black top -- my only black top -- and decided to worry about the dilemma later... when I didn't have crazy campus parties to attend. After pondering the issue and doing my fair share of runway research, I came to the conclusion that color is (or should be) seasonless. Dressing season-appropriate lies in how wear something, not the color we choose. If I'm going to wear my beloved pink cardigan, I'll throw it on over a berry top. If I decide to pull out my blue Vneck, I'll layer it with a crisp buttondown. If I decide to wear my pastel oxford, I'll layer it over my only black tunic. The next time my noir-obsessed friends insist that pink should be left for the summer months, I'm going to go against the grain and let my, excuse the pun, true colors show. If they persist, I'll just point them in the direction of Chanel's fall runway. If Karl does pastels in winter, so can I! -tf [...]
