If there is one thing I learned studying in Berlin, it is that clubbing is more than just a fun thing to do on the weekends, it is a lifestyle; one that is about more than just drugs and alcohol, but finding connection. Whether it be to music, people, or even the self, clubbing is simultaneously an escape and a return. When you dance with no inhibitions, life has meaning. 

Fun, colorful, and exciting, bouldering has been entered as an option into the collective of potential first dates, hangouts, and trendy workouts with the promise of an upper body workout (especially since Carrie Bradshaw-esque “pilates arms” have increasingly become the pinnacle of pursuit in the realm of fitness trends).

I feel like I’ve changed so much since coming to college. The way I carry myself, the way I feel about certain things, the way I talk. But also, the way I dress. And I can attribute a lot of these changes to my four new closets. 

Accessories and their labeling as such may ebb and flow through and between a spectrum of pure utility and bodily decor. Accessories may be a perfect semblance of both, or stray far to one side or the other, but at least ONE of these distinctions must be present. Above all, they must be, in technicality, unnecessary for basic clothing and even stylistic needs.

What is gyaru?

“Gyaru,” derived from the English word “gal,” is a Japanese fashion subculture. Gyaru emerged in the 1970s and gained popularity in the 1990s. Gyaru is a nonconformist subculture, and a core element of gyarus is rebelling against traditional beauty standards. At a time where Japanese women were held to societal standards that required them to appear dainty and modest, gyarus started adopting different forms of expression to oppose these standards.

Dusty screens and sticky desks, pocket protectors, and a mother’s looming watch from above the basement where one would lie. To be chronically online once meant to be a reject, a weirdo, a creep even.

Everything cycles: trends, styles, reproductive rights—and after the results of the 2024 election, so too do presidents. Amid the uncertainty of the last few months, a time marked by presidential campaigns with women’s reproductive rights at the forefront of debate, emerged a trend cycling all the way back to the 1950s: the tradwife.

My favorite sweatshirt in my closet is one I found on top of a pile of dirty and broken miscellaneous items on the side of the road. One man's trash really was my treasure. I picked up the green piece, admiring the dog sled crew running across the chest, on a Sunday. A few more hours and it would've been the end of the road for those puppies—trash day in Berkeley is Monday.

I’ve tried to stay away from watching online fashion content for as long as I could. I like to think that it keeps me grounded, and that because of my diligence, I’d never end up making an impulse purchase I’d regret. However, my streak broke this June.

Supreme jackets. Nike Dunks. Stüssy tees. Kid Super sneakers. Bikini tops. Vetemants hoodies. Yankee Hats. Camo prints. Baggy pants. Gold Hoops. Endless layers. Through the art of dance, I met fashion.

“Vain trifles as they may seem clothes have more important offices than merely to keep us warm, they change our view of the world and the world’s view of us” – Virginia Woolf, Orlando .

On the brink of turning twenty, I’ve found myself reminiscing about my pre-teen and early teen years.

Garb Writing Team’s weekly blog!!! This stop… Fashion Houses Then & Now!!!

No disrespect to anyone who is playing sports in college, but thank god that s*** is over. A childhood of club sports, from soccer to lacrosse, shaped the person I am today - a college student with spunk and style and, sure, maybe a persisting love for male athletes.

Today, if you ask a girl where she got her pants, there's about a 50% chance she’ll tell you that she thrifted them. This seems an absolute cultural 180, as thrift shopping has historically been stigmatized as a sign of economic hardship–even seen as unhygienic or dirty–but is now probably the most on-trend way to add to your closet. 

I walked by a chalk drawing on Telegraph Avenue this morning.

Vintage clothing. How do you see it? Understand it? Is it about art? Creativity? Is it about sustainability? What if the answer is all of the above? Tristan Thompson says, “Yes, it has to be all of the above.” 

Imagine you’re at a museum with one of your friends, and you are just blankly staring at a canvas that has paint splattered on it. Your friend nudges you and says, “Wow, this guy’s a genius,” but you can’t help but think that this can’t possibly be art. How can someone think that something so mediocre is “art?”

I always used to say if you see me without my necklace, that’s not me. Either I’d been Avril Lavigne-d, and you’re talking to a bare-necked, Roman poser clone, or… no. There’s no other reason you’d catch me without it.

Clothes sprawl across the room, hanging off my closet doors and the couch. My rings and necklaces, scattered everywhere, glimmer. I roll out of bed, clump a couple of rings into my palm, and grab a knitted shirt off the couch. Holding it up to the sunlight and letting the rays shine through, I smile. Woven in the blue cami’s weaves are stories of nights and people nobody will know about as I strut around campus for the rest of the day.