From TikTok to Typing: What I Learned About Clothes Through Covid

Guys, I’ve been on a journey (and not just to my fridge).

Picture the scene. It’s January 2020, and I’ve just launched a fashion Instagram to document the outfits I wear to uni each day, mainly for the benefit of my sartorially engaged and always curious mother. They are bonkers, eclectic, with no cohesive style beyond whatever was pulled off the floordrobe that morning. My wardrobe- an enormous, eighties fixture that wrapped the length and width of my room- was at bursting point. A glance through the ever-open doors revealed velvet flares, sequin jackets, feathered tops, and Penny Lane coats. It was the dressing-up box of my dreams, yet I’d never felt less confident in the clothes I wore.

Then the captions of my posts started to speak a new language. On January 28th, I made a joke about contracting coronavirus (it was just a cold). On March 16th, I wrote about things that made me feel better ‘as we move towards self-isolating’. Inadvertently, through the medium of slightly bizarre outfits, I’d created a capsule of an extraordinary time.

I arrived home almost exactly a year ago, with nothing but tanning in a hammock to fill the next few months of delicious Welsh summertime. Nothing, that is, except the app that took over all our lives, launched a thousand fashion trends, and connected millions of young people with each other in a time of total isolation. As Kesha premonished in 2009: TikTok on the clock, but the party don't stop, no!

Before I knew it, my phone screen was filled with people from across the world, all wearing the exact same thing. That Zara crop top! Those trainers! My particular favourites (and I cringe as I write this) were the 15-second videos in which the camera pans across a rack of Brandy Melville tees, all lined up in perfect hues of pink and blue.

For a girl who spends her summers looking like a bouncing baby boy- think denim cut-offs, stripey tops, mud round the mouth- this was a whole new world. I dreamed of looking like those sparkly California teens, with their improbably white teeth and even whiter Air Force 1s. It wasn’t necessarily healthy, but it was definitely influential.

So began my adventure into the world of understanding exactly how style ‘works’. Who has it? Who doesn’t? I knew for sure I didn’t want to participate in the rapid-fire purchasing of whatever fast fashion item was ‘in’ that week, though I often haunted the Zara website. My issue was rooted in deep-seated insecurity, and I can recognise this now. I didn’t feel fashionable in the way that these TikTok girls seemed to, but that could be remedied with the press of the PayPal button. If I wanted to, I could be wearing everything they were within a matter of days. It was enormously tempting.

After a while, though, the omnipresence of certain items started to feel just a little bit Black Mirror. I’d always prided myself on an unwavering sense of individuality (Aquarius, obvs), and it didn’t feel right dressing in whatever #sponcon was thrown at me that day. I’d also begun to feel increasingly out of place ‘trying on’ the different aesthetics promoted by the algorithm; I wasn’t sexy enough to pull off the Instabaddie look, nor suitably grungey for the e-girl. Once again, I felt like I just didn’t fit in.

When you’ve got a goal or dream in mind, the most important question to ask yourself is ‘what do I want?’. I knew my answer: I wanted to go to my wardrobe and instantly be able to put together an outfit that looks stylish without being rigidly ‘trendy’, and I wanted to look like the best version of myself, without the imposter syndrome.

So began a foray into ‘kibbe types’, ‘colour theory and ‘style-maxxing’ that has totally redefined how I approach the world of fashion. It’s helped me nurture my relationship with clothes, and with my body. I have a greater sense of confidence and feel attractive without constricting my body into hilariously tight bodycon dresses. It’s probably a result of my unhealthy obsession with Trinny Woodall, but nevertheless, I present to you: three tips for finding a look you love!

Tip 1: What’s Your (Arche)type?

Image source: Reddit

My first issue was that I was trying to be someone I wasn’t. My eternal babyface and petite frame looked bizarre trying to emulate the Kardashian-esque, overtly sexy look. I didn’t suit the glamour of a smokey eye, and I couldn’t pout if my life depended on it. I looked around at so many of these utterly gorgeous women online and felt unattractive in comparison. Then I found this beautiful chart on Reddit, which helped me reframe my understanding of style entirely. The creator, u/softnattylightsummer, kindly ‘typed’ me at my request, because it can be difficult to have objectivity in self-perception. With a little information about my body, my personality and my natural inclinations in style, she placed me somewhere in that bottom right corner; between the young-looking Ingenue, the ethereal Fairy and the classic Girl Next Door. With these archetypes, I was able to Google celebrities who fell squarely into these categories and found example after example of women who had an aura I adored. These were women who sat in the front row of fashion shows but had their own distinctive vibe of confidence and charisma. Quickly, my Pinterest board for clothes switched from a rather chaotic blend of quite literally everything to a wardrobe of my dreams that would flatter who I am physically, and, you know… spiritually *throws up a peace sign*.

I also researched the not-quite science of kibbe types. Look, there’s a lot to unpack here. Firstly, it was devised by a man who was intent on categorising women’s bodies- not exactly a red flag, but maybe a soft shade of pink. Secondly, the whole theory centers around the ‘yin’ and ‘yang’ of Chinese cosmology that feels quite massively out of place here, let alone patently appropriative. With these two disclaimers outside, Kibbe types are a useful way of understanding the ‘flow’ of one’s body and go some way towards explaining why some clothes just ‘work’- those pieces you can throw on and feel incredible.

I haven’t established my actual Kibbe type, mainly because there’s a lot of measuring involved and I haven’t thought about numbers since Maths GCSE. However, by approximating whether your body features are long or short, soft or angular, and big or small, you can get a rough idea of your ‘type’. I’m pretty sure I’m a Dramatic or a Soft Natural, because I’m quite petite with small shoulders, a short torso and softness in my facial features. Look, I know it sounds bonkers, okay?! But when I searched for clothes that suit these types, I found a style that I genuinely adored. I certainly won’t be wearing outfits just because some bloke called John says I should, but I do feel that understanding the shape and ‘vibe’ of my body has explained a lot about the looks I love.

Tip 2: Colours That Complement

I first heard about colour analysis when one of my mum’s friends handed us a bag filled exclusively with black clothes. She’d had a professional analyse her ‘colours’- skin tone, hair colour, et cetera- who then provided her with a palette that would look fantastic on her. It all felt a little prescriptive and very Gen X, if you know what I mean. But when I came across the subreddit r/ColorAnalysis, I could see photo after photo of women who were absolutely radiant in particular colours. They recommended uploading a photo to www.colorwise.me, which is a tool for finding your best palette. I’ve uploaded several, with slightly varying results depending on how recently I’ve been either to the sunbeds or the hair salon. Thus far, I’ve always been a ‘Summer’, sometimes ‘Soft’, sometimes ‘Cool’. It takes a bit of experimenting, but the colours it has suggested have reliably been those I naturally gravitate towards, flattering my hair and skin tone.

Here’s a screengrab from www.colorwise.me.

There are some pretty gigantic issues with colour theory; in particular, the difficulty of accurately typing people of colour. The system is very much set to cater for Caucasian people and can detect their skin tone accurately. However, black and brown skin also has these key undertones (warm, cool, and neutral), and a lack of consideration in this regard frequently sees non-white people being mistyped. It’s frustrating and short-sighted, so I hope professionals within this sphere work hard to change this.

Knowing the colours that suit you also depends on understanding the level of contrast between your hair and skin. I have very low contrast (i.e. my skin and hair are fairly close in colour), and as such high-contrast colours like black look far too stark on me. In dark colours, I look washed out and drab. As such, I’ve parted with many of the clothes I thought made me look glam and vampy, in favour of colours that actually compliment me.

Tip 3: Ignore Everything I Just Told You

The most important thing about style is that as long as you love the clothes you’re in, you’ll look completely fab. It’s a cliche, but confidence really is the sexiest thing. This project towards understanding which clothes suit me and why was never about discarding the style that makes me unique, or changing how I look just to appeal to some guy (mainly because I already appeal to one guy in particular, and he thinks I’d look great in a bin bag).

I’ve loved clothes all my life, but there’s often been an element of insecurity to getting dressed; a feeling that I’m not quite getting it right. I think that’s rooted in comparison to others, and has been a big part in generating the imposter syndrome I feel when I remember I a) run a fashion Instagram and b) am the next elected President of the Fashion Society. I’m not trendy, or cool, or have an eye for the next ‘in’ item. But what I do have is a belief that the world of fashion is made far more beautiful when it’s filled with people who go their own way. Diversity in clothes, in bodies and attitudes, will never go out of style.

Ellie Ashton

University of Edinburgh Fashion Society