Making the transition into high school can be difficult for some girls. High school is an experience that you go into feeling all grown up and come out of only to reflect on just how much you've learned and how much you still have yet to learn. Being at a new school around older kids has added pressures for "fitting in." For me, I wanted to look like all the other girls who came to school with a full face of makeup and wearing six-inch long Abercrombie skirts in the winter. The whole idea seemed silly to me but I couldn't help but take on a "if you can't beat'em, join'em" approach.
I walked into the Abercrombie store one day after school, looking around at all the low-cut tank tops and scraps of denim. It was November and even the mannequins looked scantly clad. I grabbed a short jean skirt to try on. I didn't mind how I looked in it. I looked skinny and trendy. Worn during the right season, it wouldn't look so bad. My mother would probably sneak into my room at night and steel it to sew on an extra foot of fabric. My father would probably insist I wear shorts under it. I paid sixty five dollars for a skirt that looked like the fabric cut-offs from old jeans.
I kept the tags on the skirt, just in case I came to my senses, and hid it in my backpack to change into as soon as I got to school the next day. Once my dad dropped me off, I went into the girls locker room and came out freezing, but I felt like I would start to fit in pretty quickly. I got a few compliments on my new outfit and popularity only cost me sixty five bucks! What a deal!
By fourth period, one of my friends text me: Aren't you cold? You look uncomfortable. The truth was, I was uncomfortable and the girls who liked my outfit weren't girls I wanted to be friends with anyway so why was I making compromises for something so silly? Gym class was such a relief. My running sweats made me warmer than I'd been all day and I stayed in my stinky running pants for the rest of the day.
When my dad came to pick me up from school, I asked him if we could swing by the mall so I could make a return. I showed him the skirt and although he wasn't pleased with my purchase, he was satisfied with what I taught myself. I didn't need to wear short skirts to feel liked. The goosebumps on my legs were anything but attractive. My dad came into the store with me to make sure I was able to make my return without any problems. We got some donuts on our way out. Those donuts probably went straight to my thighs and luckily, I didn't care what my thighs looked like in any of the pants or skirts I already owned.