1. When do you feel at your most attractive?

Emmy Jarvis

1. When do you feel at your most attractive?

When I’ve just woken up, braless and in my underwear. I open up my windows anyway and just feel plain old good. Or when I’m wearin something that allows me to sit with one leg folded up under me—that’s my power pose.

2. Do you notice women on the street? If so, what sort of women do you tend to notice or admire?

I notice every woman on the street. I tend to admire most the ones that you can’t quite put a finger on, that you could never fit into a box. I aspire to break labels like that.

3. What are some things you admire about how other women present themselves?

I admire the women that walk into a room and command your attention. They have a sort a presence that nobody can ignore.

Just before my fifteenth birthday, I decided that I was done trying to dress like the prettiest girl in the school. I knew I wasn’t going to reach that. So I bought a big ole checkered vintage jumpsuit and a gigantic denim trucker jacket that smelled of weed off of Ebay. Since then, I’ve probably tried every type of clothing out there.

I wait until something catches my eye. In my mind, there’s no such thing as an impulse buy. If you love it and you feel beautiful in it, why not? Sometimes I know what I’m looking for but that can be a problem because I’m very particular.

I never ever wear anything that hurts my feet. Tall heels will never receive attention from me. Platforms are a yes. Go go? Hell yes. If it hurts now then imagine it after 8 hours of standing and walking!

I was chatting with my mom about how some people honest to goodness just wear their hearts in their sleeves, and how others hide behind their clothes. I’m the former, and she is most definitely the latter. I came up with my clothing mantra, I suppose: dress to express.

I just jump in headfirst. If it doesn’t work, it doesn’t work. Why waste time wondering if it will instead of trying? Finances are a different matter—those have a couple more rules to follow, of course.

I have many jumpsuits. I love the feel—it’s all of the best parts of a dress without the drawbacks. I can spread my legs as wide as I like, and ride a bike, and so many other things. I also own what feels like hundreds of jumpers or sweaters, whatever you like to call them. I’ll go through phases of which I enjoy wearing the most. I buy so many just because of how absolutely comfy they are.

Yes!! I gave my best friend a beautiful white dress that I never wore because I was too afraid of getting it dirty, and she is a real stunner. The LWD, as we like to call it, highlights how gorgeous she is.

I don’t think I’ve ever made a conscious decision not to do something. If I want to do it I will. If I don’t, then I won’t.

My mom and I are both short, and you can see her face shape in mine. I’d say that’s about where the resemblance ends. My mother doesn’t have an hourglass figure—she’s very self-conscious of that. I have a very naturally athletic body, with big legs and shoulders.

Oh without a doubt. My cousins are some of the most fashionable people that I’ve ever met, and I try to embody them sometimes. It’s inspired my passion for platforms and chunky shoes as an alternative to heels.

I don’t really think so. I guess as soon as I decided to start caring, I threw out a ton of clothes, bought a new wardrobe, and that was it. After that, my style just evolved, I suppose.

I have a couple t-shirts with slogans, I guess. Feminist ones and liberal ideas.

I have big shoulders that are made even larger because I enjoy swimming, boxing, and lifting weights. My arms aren’t too bad either. I have strong legs, with sizeable quads and toned calves. My torso is sturdy.

I have clinical depression, but I’m beating it. I think a lot about the world, and I suppose that’s enough to send anyone into a downward spiral. However, I love noticing the beauty in everything ugly.

Quite potent. When I love someone it’s a hell of a love. I have trouble hating anyone unless they wrong my friends. I can forgive them for what they do to me.

I’m wearing an orange jumpsuit that I bought on sale at Hope Ave on top of a white shirt with these big bell sleeves. My shoes are plain black Tevas, a failsafe. My friend gave me the shirt, she said she didn’t wear it much. There’s orange shimmer eyeshadow rimming my eyes, but not even on the lid. I saw a girl wearing it that way once, and I thought it looked beautiful and feral and just amazing. I’ve never looked back. I have on mascara and a touch of eyeliner. I’ve got my pair of browline glasses on, too.

You project a certain energy and attract a certain type of person. I like feeling like I can be whoever I like. The clothes make the man, like Mark Twain said.

Anyone that’s willing! I love talking about clothing. It’s an art.

Policies set in place will obviously change it, but I’ll also sort of adapt to the environment a little bit. Pick things up here and there.

I have Style, capital s. Taste sounds like you’re picking out what looks good, but you can’t make it. To me, style is the ability to make something even better out of a couple articles. I’ve always been able to create outfits or rooms or paintings that are so much more than the sum of their parts. For this reason, I think I have Style.

I bought a pair of nice jeans, and upon finding they didn’t fit as well as I’d like, I forgot all about them and missed the return date. I made a mediocre skirt out of them.

Accessories are NOT extras. A belt can be life changing. As soon as I add a jacket or a bag to my outfit I feel like I’m complete and can totally pull it off.

I’d like to think that I do. Creativity has always been my strong suit.

Platforms make me power walk. When I power walk I feel like a badass. Anytime I’m scared or stressed I pull out a pair and put ‘em on. Once, as a teenager I was traveling alone and I wore these vintage go go boots. I had the time of my life.

I know what I like. Most definitely. I suppose I just have very strong opinions, coupled with the fact that I give zero shits about what other people think. It’s clear in my mind. Somehow it doesn’t even feel like discernment.

I feel like I taught them more than they taught me!! My dad is a professor and constantly asks what the ‘young kids like nowadays’. Mi madré could care less about what she wears, but she puts in more effort than she used to.

Good bra is a must. I have to clean and moisturize my face or I feel disgusting. Otherwise, I just do something besides sweatpants and a t-shirt with a messy bun and BAM, I’m sexy as hell. With a side of anxiety.

Comfortable, or more like comfy, is my favorite word. I strive to be comfy in every area of my life. I think that these two go hand in hand. Confidence is the ability to feel comfy in the hardest of situations. And that’s totally a conscious choice. You’re never going to please the haters, but you can always ignore them.

Wear what you fucking want. Don’t let an asshole turn your favorite dress into the dress you think is too slutty. If you feel good, you look good.

The ornately created traditional clothing of so many peoples and cultures. I find that to be the most raw and expressive thing. I also think that mountains are gorgeous, beaches are glorious, and natural, almost animal beauty is the best kind.

A sneer on someone’s face. Roadkill. Moldy strawberries.

She likes dancing with no shoes on, laughing until her face hurts, and seems like she can stare straight into your soul. She’s impossibly elegant. She’s someone I could never be. If this were based on anyone, it would be based on who I think I should have become.

I check the weather to narrow down my options. Then I ask Siri what’s on my calendar and plan accordingly fashion-wise. Finally I decide that what I picked out was awful and go with something that I’ve never tried before but I’m feeling it.

I’m trying to achieve absolute comfy. And hot as all get-out.

Dressing is what you do every day. Dressing up is special somehow. It’s up a step from the usual, whether up into the halloween spectrum or into elegance.

It would be a pair of pants with wide legs and big pockets, plus a tank top. Shoes are optional. Think Caribbean beach vacation outfit.

Anything is ‘me’ except for low rise skinny jeans and neon colored plastics. Also no clothing that doesn’t have a good texture.

I’m American—that’s the closest to a cultural background I’ve got. I dress overly casual in the wrong instances, I suppose.

During one summer, I picked up a ton of oversized clothing and wore it nonstop. It was all about hiding what I really looked like. I was tired of feeling like I couldn’t look like all my tall and leggy friends do. Now I’ve learned to embrace my bod and I disperse the oversized with the tight and sexy.

I feel professional when I have a purse or a clutch. Wearing an elegant dress or nice slacks, maybe. A pair of comfy wedge heels finish it off nicely.

I don’t have a workplace: I’m freelance. I get to wear what I want when I want.

I don’t currently besides my cross country uniform that I need to get back to my coach.

I like the boys shorts better than the girls. So I wear those.

Neither. I guess it doesn’t really make much of a difference to me.

A short yellow dress underneath a big denim jacket, a pair of platform sneakers and some embroidered sheer socks. I like the mix of classy and casual, new and vintage. I like that it makes me feel like a young art student.

I wish I had boobs like a man’s chest. Much more flat and manageable.

Seventies. Color, natural hair, bell bottoms, hippies. I own many pieces from that era.

No. It takes the right angle for me to even look normal.

I think my body must have been possessed by some parasitic alien because I don’t really stand like that, do I?

Frida Kahlo baby. Love her. Audrey Hepburn, as well. I try to embody them sometimes.

Yes. I dreamt that all I had was Billie Eilish’s wide shorts and I was very angry about it.

Goth or gangster. I think I’d just start laughing and ruin the mood.

Tube dresses. Sheath dresses. Miniskirts. Crop tops. Big blazers with little skirts underneath. Sheer tops.

Repel anyone who’s threatened by a fucking independent woman. Because that’s exactly what I am, and I will use my years of athletics including boxing against whoever tries to deny me that.

Don’t dress for others. Dress for yourself.

I like it alright, in moderation. I wear this amazing citrusy scent all the time.

I need to wash my face. I need to part my hair (brushing optional). I need to put on antiperspirant deodorant. My clothes need to fit.

Makeup is optional. If I feel like it adds to the look, I’ll wear it. If not? I leave it at home.

Earthy and vintage with pops of bright color and undertones of neutrals. My jewelry is either barely there or quite eye-catching.

My Tevas. I wear them everywhere.

I have a skirt that I bought for an occasion. Hate the thing but the color is beautiful. I keep it in the hopes that someday I can find a way to wear it that I love.

I can’t. There’s no pattern, really.

I remember a short sunflower dress that I wore every summer day. I loved it. To this day I don’t know what happened to it.

I would keep my button fly carrot pleated jeans.

I would make sure to focus on spreading the love between all of my items, instead of ending up with an abundance of shoes and not enough tops.

A pair of yellow midform vans. 65 dollars seemed like a lot to pay for shoes at fourteen years old.

In a way, all of them are. I change so constantly that each item pushes me in one direction or another.

A good pair of white shoes. I may have found them though... I saw a friend with some Reeboks that may finally do the trick.

My closet is meticulous but that may be because most of my clothing is across my chair. I suppose that’s just where I like it the best.

My friend gave me a cheap little mood ring that matched the one she wears every day. She said it was for when words don’t work. I love her for that.

My first pair of platforms ever. I sort of have an obsession. I became more and more attached and eventually bought some more. The rest is history.

I shop in thrift stores as well as designer stores. Sometimes it’s just a matter of walking past the store.

I like to smell like citrus. Tangy and natural with a pinch.

I’m not sure. Maybe I dress like I want my life to be. I dress a little spontaneous and funky but soft.

I have a budget and have to spend accordingly.

Chapstick is a must. I cannot go a day without it.

My first boyfriend told me I was the most intimidating girl he’d ever met. I put that down to my RBF, but it made me look at my presence in a different light.

I couldn’t remember that for the life of me.

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