Anthony D

Anthony DeBartolo
3/6/09
Period 5
Essay Fund.

Fitting in with the wrong style

I remember middle school. Going to a new school, new kids, new books, new everything. The only thing that wasn’t new was me. Standing there with the same tucked in polo shirt, pocket protector, denim slacks, tennis shoes, thick-rimmed glasses, and disgustingly overweight body. Something had to change; I didn’t want to be another shrimp in this ocean.
I remember my summer time well: going to all the “POPULAR” stores, and grabbing as many “brand name” clothing items as I could find. It didn’t matter what it looked like, so long as it had a popular name on it like “Hollister,” or “Ralph Lauren.” Unfortunately I didn’t have enough money to buy any of them at the time. So I worked my butt off doing yard work, scraping up as much money as I could. I would go to all my relatives, asking how much change they could spare as if I were a poor beggar. By the end of the day, I had my Ziploc bag (because there was no money to spare on a piggy bank), which I would hide my stash of cash in, because we all know how safe a Ziploc bag is. By the end of the week I would check the bag to see how much money I had collected. And each weak the bag grew heavier and thicker. It wasn’t until the end of the month though that I had run over to Fred Meyer’s and picked up the sweetest clothes I could find. They were a collection of striped polo shirts, each showing off a bright summer color, along with a nice pair of baggy denim pants. I felt so confident with my purchase that I had such a hard time picking which of the clothes I should wear.
I woke up extra early the next morning, it was the first day of school, and I was excited to try on my new clothes. I got off the bus, surrounded by the new kids; they were all around me, yet none of them were paying any attention to me. I sat there puzzled; as all the kids went by wearing their nice zip up jackets, and hoodies, each with strange graffiti-like symbols going up the sides. I realized what had just happened. I was in the wrong style. That money had just gone to waste because now I would need NEW clothes. The minute I got home from school, I immediately went back to Fred Meyers and returned what I could. The lady at the counter looked at me with a surprised look on her face, as she had sold me the clothes just the other day. “Fashions change!” I declared, and she gave me a silent nod of agreement. I ran outside panting as if I had just run a marathon. I made my way towards the bus that was about to leave. I only had a few minutes to get to the mall, as the day would soon be over, and I needed all the shopping time I could get. As I walked into the enormous, sweaty, and over crowded place otherwise known as a shopping mall. I immediately noticed the big sign reading “Hollister,” off of it. Heading towards the store, I readied myself for what I would find inside. I was instantly hit by the smell of flowers and cheap overpriced cologne, but that didn’t stop me from completing my mission. I grabbed a hip zip up hoodie, slightly baggy pair of jeans, and a bright yellow shirt off the racks before heading up to the register. I gasped in disgust at the price that showed up on the screen. I decided to put the yellow shirt back.
The very next day at school I walked in and the same thing happened. No one acknowledged me for my new clothes; it was if I were just the same old me. And once again, the ever so “popular” style had changed, that quickly. I remember sitting alone at my lunch table debating on what store I would try next, when a girl and two boys came up next to me. “Is this table taken?” they asked. I told them it wasn’t and let them sit with me. We discussed many things at that table, but only one I remember was their response to my discussion on clothes. They said it didn’t matter what I wore, and that they wouldn’t think of me any differently if I kept trying to get better and better clothes. In fact they said it might actually bother them if I kept trying to fit in with the crowd. And that’s when I realized that I didn’t need overpriced fabric to make me popular; I just needed to crawl out of my hiding hole and go say hi. The last thing I did that day was return those clothes back to Hollister, and then I went and used the money to go see a movie with my friends, because that’s the way money should be spent.