When I was young I was a true blue tomboy. I hated wearing skirts and dresses. Each time my mom made me wear those tulle dresses that other little girls love so much, I would bawl and cry till I got out of them.
And when I was 8 years old, my parents brought me to Europe. My mom was busy shopping and I hated every single minute we spent inside the shops (ie. Versace, Gucci, etc). I didn’t understand the fascination with expensive clothings. I was so bored that I started wandering around by myself. Keep in mind that I was an adolescent on some foreign street in Milan. And five minutes later I realised I was lost. I walked around to find anything or anyone that I could recognise, and sure enough I spotted my parents fifteen minutes later. Surprise surprise, they didn’t even realise I was missing.
Considering how I swore never to wear dresses or hated shopping with all my guts, it’s funny how things turn out now. I’m a shoppaholic, a shoe addict, and best of all, I love little girls’ dresses and pastel stockings that little girls wear. I suppose I’m just catching up with my lost childhood. My sense of style always falls on either my fascination with adolescent clothings, or very edgy experimentations or androgyny, but never on flirty, girly frocks.