As year ends, fashion boss reflects on advice

Boss of fashion prepares as reign ends to turn torch over to new style adviser

My dear JMU fashion followers, the time has come for my graduation — and, thus, the end of my reign as the Fashion Boss. Half of you might be sad to see me go, the other half might be pleased to see a snot-nosed rich kid leave you to dress as you like.

Time for a reality check — I am not a snot-nosed rich kid. Yes, I own a few designer items, but only after slaving away in a cubicle all summer. Once, I even spent my entire earnings on a skirt, thus leaving me to eat Ramen and rice for the rest of the year. So what drives people like me — an ordinary person — to do such things in the name of fashion?

I do these seemingly insane things because I love fashion. I love how models strut down the runway, chin high in the air wearing impossibly beautiful clothes. I love when my monthly edition of Vogue comes to my dinky South View apartment.

I love pouring over each page, whispering the unfamiliar designer names over and over until I can rattle them off like I own a few pieces. I love how each spring, designers clamor to create new and fresh looks, even when the world believes there are no more good ideas left.

OK, so the styles are hot, but why have I spent the last ten years of my life obsessing over outfits and dropping money like Paris Hilton in a sex shop?

The reason for this is simple — fashion allows people to escape who they really are, and it allows us to project an image that we can control. If I am having a horrible day, I can throw on an awesome shirt and some four-inch stilettos and just strut my stuff. Suddenly, the parking garage transforms into my very own runway and I am freed from my bad day.

This is why there are “pimps and hos,” “catholic school girl” or even “’80s” theme parties — because people love dressing up and playing a role, even if it’s only for a few hours.

Whether you’re buying some child-sized Halloween costume from Wal-Mart or spending serious dough on a label you cannot pronounce, the power of fashion effects us all at some point.

Despite the power of fashion, I still see students wearing shirts inside-out, clashing colors, last season’s shoes and women carrying embarrassingly cheap Louis Vuitton knockoffs.

However, I have noticed that my brothers, father and all of my guy friends now know what a Louis Vuitton is. My favorite moments are when they call me up and exclaim, “Missy, I saw some girl carrying the biggest Louis Vuitton thingy ever!” I feel awful to inform them that there is no way a JMU student can be carrying an authentic $3,000 bag — only I do that.

So the time has come to pass the torch — actually it is more like a clothes hanger — to a fellow student who will forge ahead in my place. This is the Fashion Boss signing off.