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  • .04 "queer as being about the self that is at odds with everything around it and that has to invent and create and find a place to speak and to thrive and to live."

.04 "queer as being about the self that is at odds with everything around it and that has to invent and create and find a place to speak and to thrive and to live."

- bell hooks

Author

Nicole Capó Martínez
07 Apr

last month, my friend leonor asked me to share my five rules for style for her newsletter. since then, i’ve been thinking a lot about rules — not just in fashion, but in life.

i’ve always had a love-hate relationship with rules. boundaries can be liberating when they provide structure, giving us edges to push against. but rules can also be suffocating, trapping us in old versions of ourselves, convincing us that safety lies in sameness. and so, the challenge becomes learning to tell the difference — when is a rule a necessary boundary, and when is it just a cage?

many of us grew up with fashion rules. if you came of age in the early 2000s, you probably remember shows like what not to wear and america’s next top model — how they dictated, in harsh and unkind terms, what our bodies should be — what was "flattering," what was "acceptable." as a lonely, awkward kid drawn to the sensory pleasures and creative possibilities of fashion, i took those rules seriously. i wanted to understand them, to internalize them, to follow them so well that they would grant me access to the belonging i desperately craved.

but i never quite fit. people knew me for my wild hair, my ever-growing collection of quirky earrings, my outfits that never followed a single logic. one day a hot topic-clad emo punk, the next a miniskirt-and-kitten-heeled child of the clueless era.

as much as i wanted to belong, i also furiously rebelled against it, ultimately belonging everywhere and nowhere. i refused to submit to one way of being, to box myself into one label. i refused to follow the rules or “shoulds.” fashion became a way to play — to shift, to transform, to try on different versions of myself and see what fit.

and yet, the world pushed back. because being yourself is never easy when those around you haven’t given themselves permission to do the same. when you live in a box, it can be hard to watch others live outside of it, and instead of asking for help — asking how to get out — some people cling to their walls even tighter. i felt this acutely as an adult in a workplace where everyone seemed to dress — and think — the same. try as i might to blend in, i was always a little too much, too different, too visible. it still stings to recall the moment my conventionally pretty boss jokingly referred to me as the "ugly" team member.

years, therapy, a whole pandemic and new understanding of myself later, i know this: i will never look — or act — the way other people think i should. and that is something to be celebrated. in a world that tries to dictate how we look, think, and behave, i get to be myself. no one has control over me but me. that means i get to define not just my style, but my life — what i prioritize, what i create, how i show up for others. 

i set my own boundaries, and i change them when they no longer serve me.

to some, personal style may seem superficial. i believe it’s a mirror. if we don’t feel free to experiment, to play, to try and fail and try again, how can we expect our imaginations to be boundless anywhere else? play isn’t just important — it’s essential. it reminds us that another way of living is possible. and at a time when so many forces are trying to make the world smaller, harsher, and more rigid, joy and play are acts of quiet resistance.

so, go play. wear something that makes no sense but makes you happy. recall what it felt like as a kid to put on a costume and become someone else, just for a little while. who do you want to be today? tomorrow? who do you want the world to remember you as?

whatever your answer, dress like it.

stay soft, stay free.

<3,

n.

p.s.