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Style Finale: unique personalities buried behind Seven jeans and Hermes Birkin bags

It's hard to imagine that in just a little over a month, I'll be taking part in a ceremony where the dress code calls for shapeless black gowns and absurd little tasseled hats. Though I'm sure caps and gowns don't really do anything for my style factor, something tells me that between the ceremonies and the good-byes, the last glances around the lawn and my mom's tears, I won't really care what I'm wearing. It's hard to imagine that by then, my tenure at Style File will be a thing of the past.

I've written this column for over a year now, and it's been a forum in which I rant and rave about styles and trends I see emerging around Grounds. I haven't ever tried to call the shots on what's "in" (as in, "Satin drawstring cargo pants are so hot right now"), because come on, that's what In Style is for. But that's not to say that writing this column hasn't led me to draw some conclusions about style at U.Va.

I came to this school ready to embrace the preppiness U.Va. is known for. After going to high school in Boca Raton, Florida (where the moms at my school wore more form-fitting, seductive outfits than most twenty-something women I know), I was ready for a more laid-back mentality toward dressing. What I wasn't ready for, however, was the homogeneity I've noticed since I first set foot on Grounds.

I'm always on the lookout for new fads around Grounds, and people watching has become one of my favorite activities, especially when the warm weather draws people out and about. And without fail, the pattern I've noticed over the last few years has been rather puzzling: the people with everything that U.Va. culture deems "in" (i.e., a girl walking around in Seven jeans, a polo shirt, New Balance 991s and a Herve Chapelier bag) are actually the ones that stand out the least.

I think that the style drawbacks of U.Va. women can be explained by one stellar example: Seven jeans. Over a year ago I noticed a few girls starting to wear them, buzzing about them in that way that girls do when they've discovered an emerging brand that not many people know about. Fast forward to today, when everywhere I go I can't help but notice that little red tag staring me in the face. Seven jeans have literally taken over this school.

Now let's be serious--not EVERY girl who owns a pair of Seven jeans was attracted to them merely for their fit, or even for their appearance. I'm sure you could find somewhat equivalent jeans at the Gap without shelling out over a hundred bucks. It's that little red tag that we're all drawn to, and if it's not Seven jeans that brings out this mentality in us, it's something else. And don't worry, I'm not excluding myself from this syndrome.

The only problem that I don't think girls around this school realize is that there's a point when enough is enough. Now, Seven jeans have completely lost the exclusivity that made them "cool" in the first place. No matter how expensive or well-fitting an item of clothing is, if it's showing up on every other person who walks by, it loses the individuality that initially made it popular.

I mean, even if the mother of all accessories, the Hermes Birkin bag, suddenly became all the rage, it too would fall prey to this phenomenon. Sure, they're the pinnacle of fashion when the only women carrying them also have a matching house in the Hamptons. But if there ever came a time when you couldn't stand in line at Take it Away without getting whapped by someone walking by with one of them, they too would lose the essence that made them stylish in the first place.

Writing this column has not made me a trendier person. I'm not dabbling in green eye shadow like Allure claims I should and those must-have satin cargo pants are nowhere to be found in my closet. But what this column has made me more aware of is the true meaning of the word "style." Now, more than ever, I realize the importance letting your clothes reflect who you are, not who you think anyone else wants you to be.

When most people think of someone "stylish," they probably imagine Giselle walking down the catwalk in some horribly impractical getup that could never cut it in the real world, or some society matron in a mink coat and alligator pumps. But I think of something different altogether. To me, style isn't necessarily synonymous with trendiness, or even wealth; rather, style is closely and necessarily linked with the concept of the self.

Someone with true style dresses to please herself, not necessarily those around her. She's not afraid to take risks when it comes to fashion, but at the same time, she isn't different just for the sake of unconformity. She knows that on some occasions (such as at work, or when meeting people of standing), it's more important to let people focus upon her rather than her clothing.

Another misconception that people harbor is that good style is synonymous with expensive clothing. While I'm sure it's nice to be able to wander into Chanel and let a personal shopper transform you into an instant icon, designer clothes do not necessarily make you stylish (look at Kelly Osbourne), nor are they necessary for style. Style isn't about price. It's about the look that you can achieve using what you have.

If you glean anything at all from this article, please let it be this: style is about more than clothes. True, personal style has the power to transcend outward appearance. As we move toward the vastness of the "real" world, it's important that we realize that, in most cases, it's going to judge us by our actions, not what we happen to have thrown on in the morning.

As I prepare to bid farewell to the University, I realize how proud I am to have been able to call myself a peer to an amazing community of students who are smart, talented and driven. But most importantly, I know that each and every person at this school is unique in some way. So why not dress like it?

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