Wear it till the sole falls off

Does my love of fashion hide an insecurity? I went looking.

Since I was four

To be honest, at the moment I wouldn’t have a clue why I like fashion so much. I’ve enjoyed it since I was a little boy. I’ve chosen my own clothes since I was 4 years old, and I always loved getting new items.

It’s not so much the buying that’s enjoyable. Perhaps it’s discovering new items, and analysing the way they’re made: what fabric they’re made of, and what the intention behind the piece could be when it’s worn. How would I wear it?

The answer isn’t clear. But there should be one, otherwise I wouldn’t like it. So let’s start with what I don’t like.

What I don’t like

Low-quality materials and production methods.

Design pushed beyond wearability. It disconnects clothing design from its purpose, which is to wear it.

The wasteful nature of fast fashion, and the speed of it.

The lack of creativity most brands suffer. There are more stories to be told.

What I do like

Unique and creative pieces that tell a story. The craftsmanship found in small ateliers. The marriage between visual art and functionality.

A way to express myself. I feel a certain way when I wear a nice outfit. I feel good.

I can tell a story by the way I dress. I used to dress to impress, or to show my attitude, but now I understand there’s much more to it, especially when you develop your own specific style.

Too shallow?

Now the question becomes: am I approaching this in a way that’s too shallow? Are there hidden insecurities that drove my initial desire for wearing nice clothes?

This is hard for me, because I don’t remember very specific things from my childhood. When I dig hard enough I might find something, yet whether that information is trustworthy is questionable. So let’s start with the earliest thing I can remember.

Hot Wheels sunglasses

When I was perhaps 4 or 5, I saw a pair of Hot Wheels sunglasses in a shopfront. I was mesmerised. They were blue, with reflective metallic glass, and the tips of the legs had a rubber part. Extremely cool for a young boy in love with Hot Wheels.

I treasured them. I felt horrible when the first scratch appeared. I wore them every opportunity I had, and I’m approaching 30 and I still have them.

I don’t think anything gave me that desire out of fear or lack. I had, and have, no reason for it.

Worn to destruction

There have been more items like this. A red Diesel jacket. A black hooded leather jacket. A pair of white Diesel shoes. Later on, a pair of Diesel loafers I still miss.

I wore them till the sole fell off.

One thing they all have in common: I wore them so much they started to break down, and eventually ended up in the trash.

A statement

None of these items were bought because of a lack, or a fear. They were bought because I could make a statement by wearing them: I’m different, I’m confident.

And I was exactly that, which isn’t such a bad thing from my perspective.

I still wear my items with pride, just like when I was 4 years old, or 12, or 18, or 24. It all feels the same for me.

First written in June 2025.