I turn 38 today. That’s not as momentous a number as 30, or as unsettling as 36, or as exciting (one hopes) as 40. Over the last few years, I’ve been getting into the habit of thinking of myself as a year older as soon as January hits; so, by this point, I have been mentally referring to myself as a 38 year-old for more than 6 months, which makes my actual birthday feel rather anti-climatic. I’m spending the week at home with my kids and husband, which is nice but not particularly conducive to deep reflection. Age is just a number anyway, right?

But I thought it would be fun to commemorate this otherwise unremarkable birthday on the blog by looking at how my style has evolved over the last 4 decades. Join me on a journey back in time, won’t you?

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This is one of my favourite childhood photos; I don’t have any memories associated with it – I don’t even remember how old I was or where this was taken – but it so perfectly encapsulates my childhood. My parents insisted on cutting my hair short (despite my vociferous) protests for most of my early years; I seem to recall the rationale being that it would grow back thicker – a very Eastern European kind of rationale, but sadly one that my experience has disproven. The only tangible result was that, for years, strangers assumed I was a boy. One of my strongest childhood memories is of nightly prayers asking for long, blonde, curly hair like the heroines of my favourite fairy tales. Alas.

My style at the time could be best described as Soviet Block Tomboy Chic. I wore a mixture of homemade clothes and hand-me-downs from relatives in Western Europe. Since my female cousin was younger than me, most of those hand-me-downs came from my male cousin. I don’t remember caring too much about day-to-day clothes, but I was fascinated with grown-up clothes; I would beg my grandmothers and mom to let me dress up in their dresses and high heels, but it was a game more so than a form of self-expression. Oddly, I grew up thinking of myself as a tomboy, but I was always fascinated by older (teenage) girls – they seemed to know things I didn’t about being a “woman”, and I was desperate to find out their secrets, so that I, too, some day would transform from an ugly duckling to a swan.

My teenage years were deeply traumatic for a variety of reasons, so my transformative moment never really came. (At some point, I simply gave up waiting.) Not surprisingly, I haven’t kept a lot of photos of myself from that era; this was before the invention of the selfie, so there weren’t that many photos to begin with. I did manage to dig up a few less embarrassing ones (it’s all relative, though) so you could see the next stages of my sartorial journey.

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After moving to Canada, my parents scraped by for a few years on minimum wage jobs so money was tight. My clothes came largely courtesy of thrift stores and the occasional K Mart or Mariposa splurge. Thrift in the late 90s was a different beast, at least in my experience. The middle picture above is a good illustration of what you might typically find in a thrift store back then: crappy plaid and 70s corduroy bell bottoms. Let me reassure you that I was not really into grunge at any point; I just didn’t really have a lot of choices.

Let’s fast forward a few years to my mid-twenties. Post-law school, I moved out on my own, and began living the single girl life in downtown Edmonton.

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The picture on the left is so quintessentially mid-2000s “going out” wear, isn’t it? I’m pretty sure that’s a Forever 21 top, and those are definitely boot-cut polyester pants from Suzy Shier. As a baby lawyer, I wasn’t making much money, and fast fashion was as fancy as I could get – and it did feel fancy after years of shopping at Walmart. Clearly, though, my sense of style was pretty much non-existent, and certainly it was not a means for self-expression.

I’ll pause here to say that I still have the skirt I’m wearing in the middle photo. I bought it on sale at the Gap sometime in the early 2000s and for many years, it was the nicest piece of clothing I owned – it was silk, and it came from an “expensive” store; never mind that it wasn’t really in style then, or any time since. I’ve never been able to part with it because it was a kind of memento of a certain time in my life. I decided to wear it again this past weekend on a dinner date with my husband; it was a nice nostalgic moment. I’m not sure that I am now the person I thought I would be when I first bought this skirt, but I would like to think that my younger self would not be entirely disappointed with how things have turned out in our life.

The last decade of my sartorial adventures has been pretty well documented on this blog, so I won’t bother to recap it again. In a nutshell, the trajectory has been one of discovery (of the idea of personal style, of the fashion industry, or style as a form of self-expression), experimentation, and self-acceptance. I would like to say that I am completely indifferent to others’ opinions, but while that’s not entirely true, I think I have a far healthier relationship with external judgment than at any other time in my life. At 38, I am the most comfortable I have ever been — in my own skin, and in my clothes. And that’s a pretty good place to be.

25 Comments on Thirty Eight

  1. These were delightful. A lot of this really reminded me of clothing growing up. I was always always afraid of being caught shopping at Kmart as a teenager, without thinking through the fact that anyone who caught me would also be shopping at Kmart. It definitely led me to buy some more expensive pieces I still have kicking around (ie Calvin Klein work dresses).

    My mom’s family is Polish and she always insisted that eating the fat on meat made your hair glossy, so maybe weird hair beliefs span Eastern Europe?

    • Eastern European “grandma lore” is delightful in retrospect, but not so much when I was a kid. I still have a phobia of going out of the house with wet hair, lest I catch a cold …

  3. August babies unite 🙂

    I’m 36 at the end of this month and it struck a chord with me when you described 36 as “unsettling” at the beginning of your post. That’s how I feel but I don’t know why..?

    Anyway, many happy returns on your special day x

    • I don’t why, but it was. Hit me way worse than 35. My best friend just turned 36 and said the same thing. I went through a small freak-out/ life crisis, but it passed eventually. 37 was fine, and so far… 38 is pretty good. I just woke up though 😂

  4. Happy birthday, adina! You were gorgeous then and you are gorgeous now. Here’s to many more years of thrift scores, good books, and craft adventures!

  6. Happy birthday! I have to say, I love that Gap skirt! I saw it on your recent Instagram post and think it’s awesome that you’ve saved it all these years!

  7. Happy birthday! I loved this post. Not to sound creepy at all, but it’s nice to see a woman coming into her own and being happy with that and able to express it. I don’t see that much and it is appreciated.

  8. Happy birthday! I loved this post, and darn, I can relate to quite a few of these things. As a younger teen, I also was totally imagining that at some point soon, I’d magically know how to do my hair and makeup all of a sudden, though it never quite happened. I only figured out makeup, hair, and what I liked wearing and looked good wearing much later, as an adult.

    And oh gosh, I remember the mid-2000s going out look all too well, all the shiny fabric “going out” tops, which we wore with jeans. (As for various polyester bell bottom/flares, those also played a big role in my closet, but a few years before going-out tops for me – I remember in the earlier 2000s, TJ Maxx and similar stores had tons of those polyester pants in faux-businesswear-looking fabric and I wore them with sweaters and sweater vests with sewn-on faux collars and shirtsleeves/cuffs so that they’d look like sweaters layered over real button-downs. Not sure what look I was going for!)

  9. Happy birthday! What a fun way to celebrate.. I agree that it is lovely to see you come into your own. Here’s to a great year ahead!

  10. Happy belated-birthday, Adina. I am only about two weeks older than you (July 14, 1980), and I do the same thing in regards to thinking of myself as a year older come January. In fact, this last year I’ve begun to refer to myself as “almost 40.” Not sure why- maybe I am starting to steel myself for the actual event? I enjoyed this post, as I definitely recognize similar articles of clothing from my past wardrobe, and I am wondering if you consider yourself a ‘milennial’? I’ve read some articles that say 1980 is the cut-off and others that say it is 1983. I do not consider myself a milennial for a variety of reasons, but since you are also a 1980-baby, I am interested in your take.

    • No, I don’t think I am a millennial. Keep in mind that my background (growing up in the Soviet block) throws things off quite a bit in terms of my cultural references. But I feel much closer in spirit to Gen X. I graduated law school in 2005 and did not experience any job insecurity, so I would be an atypical millennial anyway (based on my understanding of the hallmarks).

  11. Such an endearing post – so much nostalgia! You’re a dead ringer for Claire Daines in your mid-90s pics, especially the one on the far left.

    Happy Birthday!

    • Man, after going through old photo albums to track down these photos, I have ZERO nostalgia for the fashions of my younger days! They were … not good. But it was a fun post to write – and yes, quite nostalgic.

    • Kat, I thought the same thing about the Claire Danes resemblance!

      Adina, enjoyed your stroll through your sartorial past, and:

      Happy Birthday!

  12. Belated happy birthday, fellow Aug 1, 1980 birthdate sharer 🙂 I felt much more excited about turning 37 than 38, which feels like filler space before the momentous 40. But may this year bring unexpected goodness and joy into our lives.