Sonndr cafe’s back table
I am sitting across the table from one of my best friends, trying to help her with developing her website as her iPad fights her on every move. The wall beside us is dandelion yellow, and the mirror next to her reflects the man at the counter wearing his headphones over his trucker hat. These small, local cafes following eclectic aesthetic styles always attract the same fashionable crowd; people you may pass on the street and absent mindedly make comments on to your friend, or those you see running blogs on Instagram. They are cool, mysterious, and busy.
They have one airpod in, letting them listen to their music while debating with the person seated across from them. They may be artists, writers, students, researchers… but they are suave in their approach to their busywork.
While I am sitting across from a friend, with my laptop open slightly to my left, and my sketchbook slightly to my right, books and pastels in my thrifted Michael Kors tote, I feel like a fraud. There may be the appearance of fashionable and suave busywork—”I <3 NYC” baby-tee, stacked mixed metal rings, a faux baroque pearl gold chain necklace, a long blue gingham skirt, all denoting how “artsy” I am—but I am staring at the blinking cursor, trying to embody the “me” that my fashion portrays. At what point does pretending become an actual identity? Is it when our friends believe it? When we find success through that persona?
Charli XCX’s 2024 album “Brat” comes to mind when I think about the eclectic fashion found on Toronto streets and cafes. Is it an honest emulation of personal style, wherein the authenticity is what makes them fashionable, or is that messy, sincerity just another aesthetic we’ve donned to try and adopt the success we’ve seen others achieve? While Charli may be an icon for many young adults today, it is safe to assume that stems from a combination of her style and musical talent, being propelled forwards by confidence. When walking down the street through an area populated by the people I try to mimic, I play her upbeat-power-anthems (Von Dutch, Guess, 365, etc.) and imagine I belong with that confident group.
Being an artist, a writer, and a young woman requires confidence, whether it’s real or not.
