IF THE SHOE FITS

by Jessica Oakwood

I used to dress like someone else. Masking my autism and mental health problems with smart casual office wear and Kurt Geiger loafers with plain dresses that I didn’t have an opinion on.

Occasionally something would burst out of the mad wardrobe I hid in - a silk scarf bearing a symphony of musical notes a laser cut necklace featuring a glitter-covered unicorn with hooves that can move.

But mostly I was button-down wearing buttonless dresses and smart shoes. Sometimes mismatched because they were so similar I couldn’t tell the difference between pairs.

Since I lost my mind and lost the ability to mask my colour changing blending-in power is gone, I was once a chameleon with a knack for a spreadsheet.

But now, I’m left as just me.

I’ve started to dopamine dress to try and give myself a hit of happiness.

I pick the brightest thing in the closet, clash it with a cardigan and voila, I am ready.

I’m tired now, daily life is harder carrying mental health issues on my worn shoulders and although sometimes I wear the same outfit over and over, it’s too complex to think through what to wear too intensive to sort out what needs to be washed I throw it all on from my floordrobe - pretence of functionality begone.

And I dress like a rainbow threw up on me with just a pinch of glitter