Closets

BY KIRA COOK '23

I loved my brother’s closet more than my own. To say I have a love-hate relationship with clothing would be an understatement. Society’s view of clothing has both belittled me and empowered me at different stages of my life.

THE BEST COLLEGE APPLICATIONS grab the attention of admissions officers with an intriguing first sentence. Kira Cook’s does that as well as any I have read in my 52 years as a guidance counselor.

As you read on, its crisp prose, tight organization, and thematic integrity live up to the promise of its opening. The essay’s concluding sentences are equally worthy. She conveys her strength as a writer and person with exceptional grace. Next year Kira will be attending Binghamton University, State University of New York.

—Steve Reed

I loved the 9-inch Nike shorts I proudly wore while racing the boys in my class at recess to see who would be crowned the fastest runner. I would wear them when I played tennis in the streets, with the inbound lines drawn with chalk, and the endless bickering about whether the lines were even on both sides. I loved how the longer my shorts were, the more I was treated as one of the boys. I loved the way flatbrimmed hats would partially hide my femininity from the outside world while keeping my hair out of my face during kickball. Clothing, at that time, didn’t dictate how I was perceived, whether I was accepted, or what my gender preference was.

I loved my brother’s closet until the curtains couldn’t hide me anymore. At ten years old, I was faced with society’s expectations and opinions about dressing, and my love-hate relationship with clothing began. As the shorts’ length grew, so did the number of eyes scolding me, eyes that were meant to be shining at me. I came to become an object of speculation and confusion simply by wearing clothing that didn’t fit the mold.

It was at this time before I was old enough to walk home alone from school, that I promised myself I would try to make other people’s lives less confusing by wearing more ‘girly’ clothes. The clothing that I was comfortable wearing began to fall off the racks of my closet. Old Navy jeggings and tight pink Nike leggings filled the empty space. I held in the shame and guilt for wanting to dress as a masculine female. The idea of wearing sweatpants to school made me overthink if people would judge me for dressing “too masculine.” Even though sweatpants are worn by both masculine and feminine females. I obsessed about how others would perceive me.

I only loved one shelf in my feminine closet; it held my long shorts and the tall socks I wore to hockey. I loved seeing people who pursued the same passion as me but also dressed like me. Once I began playing, it was the first time in a while that I felt as though I was safe and comfortable. Twice a week and on weekends, I could take a deep breath and not worry about my clothing choices. Eventually, I realized it was important to wear clothing that made me feel the most comfortable. The idea seems relatively simple, but it took me years to truly understand what it meant and to be able to apply it to myself.

I had loved my brother’s closet more than my own, but now I love the closet that I have built for myself. The base of this closet was created with the support of my closest friends. Hand-me-down clothing allowed me to explore what made me feel comfortable. I loved the chino pants that I wore to prom because that was the first time I finally felt comfortable dressing up for a formal occasion and dancing with my classmates. I didn’t have any pressure from others about what I was “supposed” to wear. Even though the closet has some hangers that need to be filled, I now love my closet more than my brother’s.