Destination Nowhere: Sarah "Diadem" Lawson
Welcome to Destination Nowhere, a new series bringing MODA’s Quad Style into the Zoom world. Through a set of interviews with UChicago students, we ponder the following: what happens to our sense of style when our days are spent at home with cameras off? From where do we mine aesthetics in isolation? What does it really mean to “dress for yourself?”
In our first article, second-year Sarah “Diadem” Lawson unpacks the fashion of gender-fluidity against a pandemic backdrop.
How would you describe your pre-pandemic style?
I’ve always described my style as grandpa-esque! I try to throw in contemporary pieces, but there’s an old-soul aesthetic to it. I’d call it a mosh posh of just anything and everything that I would see while thrifting. Weird fabrics or weird patterns and colors that I was like, I can work that into an outfit. I think my style’s a little mess core because I've always been all over the place when deciding what to put on my body.
Any style icons or sources of inspiration?
I love the style of the 60s-70s era, especially a good turtleneck. Leather has started to grow on me, earth tones as well. I find myself picking up aesthetics from revolutionaries like the Black Panthers. They were protesting and looking good while doing it - that's all I want in my life!
How do you put a look together?
I focus on looks that make me happy, which is also how I pick out pieces that I'm buying in stores. When I was a child, my mom would dress me a lot. And I hated everything, everything. So actually finding pieces that I want to put on my body is really, really important to me. I'm like, what can I put on today that is going to make me feel good? What’s a piece I adore and would never want to lose?
Have you noticed changes in your aesthetic choices as the pandemic’s progressed?
I feel like my fashion sense evolved as I was starting to discover my gender identity. I stayed in the same three pairs of pajamas all spring. But in the summertime, I began coming out as non-binary to myself. And I remember there was one point in the summer where I was biking around my neighborhood with my brother. And this woman had lost her cat, and she came up to us asking, “can you boys help me find it?” And I literally felt a sense of gender euphoria when she said, “you boys.” I was like, oh, OK. I don't have to be perceived as feminine all the time. So that was a really, really, really big change in my emotional state. And it's definitely influenced how I style myself. I’ve stopped worrying about dressing feminine; being whoever I want to be is at the forefront of my aesthetic right now.
Does your new aesthetic retain elements of your old one?
I try to mesh them together in a way that represents who I am at the moment. I love taking pieces from both the feminine and masculine periods of my life and combining them to create the best of both worlds. I'll wear a brightly colored pant or something “feminine” like that, but then on the top, I’ll pair it with a jean jacket and a beanie. I also love to layer - many of my more feminine pieces can still be put to use through layering. Honestly, if you look at any of my outfits, I’m always layering, even today.
How do your aesthetic choices (both past and present) allow for self-expression?
Finding my aesthetic has been a whole journey of self-expression. I think this happens to a lot of people, but I remember being younger and blindly following the latest trends: UGGs, leggings, that era of basic white girl. But finding my aesthetic throughout high school and into college has helped me realize that I can be whoever I want to be. If I'm feeling more feminine, maybe I'll do a skirt and layer it with a turtleneck and a cardigan. Or maybe I’ll wear a blazer and a sweatshirt because why not?
How do you navigate “dressing for yourself?” What does it mean to you?
When I dress for myself, there are still lingering thoughts of what will people think of this? How are people going to see me? Are they going to find this is inappropriate? I definitely feel that tension; I've had a lot of anxiety about how I'm perceived. And honestly, the mold of fashion, of white European glamor, was never made for me. I'm never going to be what the mainstream wants.
So why not go for what I want? Why not dress for myself? Even if I receive criticism, the way I dress isn’t for anyone else. They can have their own opinions. It's taken a lot to get to the point where I don't care if people snicker. But I like what I like, and that’s where I’m at.
Is it harder to form attachments to looks without the memory of wearing them out in the world?
I feel like it's the opposite way a little bit. Especially during the covid area, going out is such an event, even if people don't really notice me. So sometimes outfits, get lost in the daily sauce. But, generally, when I go out, I go out with an intention. And I think my attachment to my outfits reflects that.
The online sphere is one of the few places we can safely broadcast a look. What are you sharing?
Honestly, I don't put much effort into zoom dressing. Student fatigue is so real! For the most part, I'm rolling out of bed, changing my shirt from the one I was sleeping in to something a little more presentable. I’ve learned my fashion sense doesn't have to be on all the time.
But I will always get an outfit ready for days where I’m posting on social media. I want to share outfits I love being in. A lot of the stuff that I thrifted right before the pandemic, I was like, oh, I didn't have the chance to wear that out, so I'm going to post it. Same with stuff I buy online. Since nobody is going to see my earrings IRL, I need to share them some other way! But for the most part, on zoom and facetime, I'm just in sweats because no one cares
I notice fashion and activism are often intertwined on your Instagram. Is this a relationship that influences your day-to-day style?
Organizing has helped me find a sense of self through the collective. Joining various communities and actively working to change the university with them has empowered me to rethink what solidarity should look like on campus and throughout the south side. I’m lucky to have a wonderful network that’s influenced me not just politically but also emotionally. Organizing has altered my fashion sense, my views on collective power, how I perceive both myself and the world at large. Seeing how other organizers approach their lives in such an unapologetic way has helped me realize that I can do that too.
I think fashion also has the ability to work against systems of power. When you wear something, you may get whispers, there’s a little bit of backlash or controversy. But you wear it anyway, and it feels like you’re pushing back against the system in your own way. It's not a huge thing to the world, but it's a huge thing to me. It's a big thing for how I perceive myself.
Is your pandemic style evolution here to stay?
The spirit of this pandemic fashion fiasco is going to stay with me for a while. Mostly because it came as a physical manifestation of how I was feeling while figuring out my gender fluidity. My aesthetic changes represent how I started to perceive myself as an entirely different person. They helped me free myself from definitions of femininity.
In the long run, my style might shift again. I already see myself wanting to add more color, and I’m allowing myself to continue experimenting. But any new changes will take place in an authentic way that stays true to who I am.