In Stanford in Style, Rebecca Smith ’25 dives into fashion on The Farm and what the things we wear say about who we are.

We’ve reached the end of another winter quarter — the lake is full once again, memories of sunshine feel like the distant past and it seems like everyone’s entered their grandma era.

Now that I’m a junior and am acutely aware that each quarter completed brings me ten weeks closer to corporate America, I find myself pensive and reflective in these quiet last days of my third Stanford winter. Sure, I’m looking forward to spring at Camp Stanford, but my own awareness of time’s frantic passing has me pondering days of winters past and the change that Stanford has wrought upon me.

I was a HumBio pre-med varsity athlete when I came to Stanford (shoutout women’s rowing <3) but somewhere along the way I’ve become an MS&E NARP (Non-Athletic Regular Person). Even on paper, I’m different from who I was when I first stepped onto Palm Drive almost three years ago. Change is one of my favorite parts of life, and how better to reflect on it than through a retrospective glance at my personal style through the years?

Prologue
What would a reflection on personal growth be without paying homage to my roots? Before Stanford, I had no choice in my sense of style. I went to Catholic school for 16 years and wore a uniform for all of them, which unfortunately didn’t leave a lot of room for personal fashion exploration.

Purely utilitarian in my teens, I reluctantly embraced our uniform, wearing the same pair of Clarks Wallabees every day from seventh grade until my high school graduation. The shoes stand as a testament to the constancy of daily life in high school: wake up, school, practice, homework, sleep, repeat. I don’t think I’ve ever owned an uglier pair of shoes, nor have I ever gotten my money’s worth quite as well.

Frosh Year

In my first year out of high school, I embraced athleisure and my athlete backpack with open arms, stepping into California for the first time. My bandwidth was low, too low to even wear jeans most days. Looking through my camera roll, I leaned into looking sporty, wearing leggings and a hoodie most days in the winter, and swapping the leggings out for running shorts in the spring. I had leaned in hard to sporty style, my outfits reflecting the deep sense of identity I had as an athlete, into the practicality and comfort of athleisure when you’re too tired to put on a pair of jeans.

But, on nice Wednesdays in the spring when we had practice off, I’m photographed in a floral dress with a sweater, or a pair of ripped jeans and a top that I really liked. Just looking back reminds me of the chaos of early Stanford, the uncertainty of self in a new place, and the time between arriving here and establishing myself. Throughout the spring, I start to see flashes of who I am now reflected in the outfit choices of who I was then: a square neck linen dress, a cute summer shirt, a sparkly tube top at a party. Starting to ground herself, but certainly still awash in change.

Sophomore Year

I stopped rowing sophomore year, and this huge lifestyle change and ensuing mild identity crisis was certainly reflected in what I was wearing. Now that I wasn’t an athlete, who was I? I stuck with the athleisure of days past in the late fall and early winter, again leaning into comfort and utility as I worked to establish who I was on campus and to myself yet again.

I can trace the beginnings of my style evolution and start of my NARP life through fit checks I sent to my mom — a pair of wide-leg black jeans I love, a cream sweater I wear often and my favorite pair of neutral wash jeans I’m wearing as I write this. I can see my transition out of uncertainty and into self-assuredness through these photos.

Sophomore year also brought about one of my favorite pieces: my Oddli shirt, that I customized with my name, Becky. The Becky! shirt is a true staple of my closet, constantly in rotation. I think it’s fun, playful, energetic and just the tiniest bit camp. Looking back, the advent of this simple baby tee reflects a real pivot in my time at Stanford — an embrace of self, comfort in authenticity and newfound joy.

The Present

Today, I feel like the way I dress is a distinct embodiment of who I am. I love to wear blues, greens and neutrals (my forever favorite colors). I wholeheartedly stand for linen and a knit as a go-to outfit choice, and I’ve embraced dressing comfortably, but still somewhat uniquely.

Another thing I’ve recently embraced is my natural hair color. I was blonde for almost five years, highlighting my naturally light brown hair multiple times a year. Blonde was fun, but I still feel like it was a way for me to present as someone I was distinctly not. My transition back to brunette represents my choice to wholeheartedly embrace who I am, and a comfort with myself and self-assuredness I feel for the first time since coming to Stanford.

A fun side quest of embracing myself has been my own personal style journey. It’s easy to feel adrift and uncertain in your early 20s, and I’ve embraced both change and authenticity through the way I style myself. Who’s to say how I’ll dress in five years, or even next September. Time will tell if I go blonde again, or if I swear off wearing a shirt with my name on it.