My first love wasn't the typical puppy love any normal little kid would experience. Little boys were the last thing on my mind. Back then, I truly believed that girls ruled and boys drooled. The love that was undeniable for me was fashion. Just the notion that style and clothing could express whatever I wanted ignited a flame within me that I could not deny. Diving into the deep end, I was not afraid to try new things. From long stylish socks, handmade checkered print pants, hot hand gloves, neckties, you name it, the world was not ready for the young, fashionista that had arrived.
As a little girl, I always abided by the concept of being a student before becoming the teacher. I wanted to learn everything about fashion. From color palettes, types of material, sizes, fashion models, trends, and everything else you could think of, I became fashion and fashion became a part of me.
Stepping into my new pursuits of being a fashion model and designer I learned the darkness that came with this adventure. Trying new things was daring, edgy, and overall being a trendsetter. This came along with haters. The ones that secretly envy you because they aren't you. The ones that admire your risk-taking abilities but also triggers them inside because they lack the guts to be bold. I was ridiculed for my breath-taking fashion debut. No one wanted to be my friend. I quickly became singled out from any friend group in the classroom. I walked in with my head held high and continuously brought the heat with my different expressions of clothing every day.
One particular day, I decided to take it up a notch. At this time, wearing your belt around your stomach and not having it in the pant loops was not a thing but I wanted to try it. To go along with the belt around my stomach I added long socks, glasses with no lens, and let's not forget my big, curly hair. The facial expressions I received were memories embedded in my mind for years. The instant chatter once I walked in the classroom raided the room. Still, I held my head high and basked in the astonishment I caused my haters. I not only rejoiced because of my risk-taking abilities in fashion that day but also I also embraced the rage from my haters with open arms. That was the birthing of Riot's Rage. It was the beginning of being unapologetic, daring, and the rebel I've always intended to be.
Thanks Ragers!
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