I would hesitate to use the words "babybat" and "goth", as although my style is sometimes slightly similar to goth, I am not goth, and somebody who is not goth by definition could not be a babybat.
I started to experiment with diffrent styles of fashion at an earlier age, maybe around eleven or twelve. And, considering that I was eleven or twelve, one can assume it did not look too good. Pale foundation looked terrible on olive skin, and the tons of skull clothes, striped socks and converse were not much better. Even so, I only remember getting one somewhat-rude comment at the time, somebody yelled something about Halloween at me in the beginning of december. It did not affect me much, as even then I did not really take the fashion authority of someone wearing a TNA hoodie and trainers. And it was fine, I was still learning and so were they.
However, sixth grade came to an end soon enough, and I was left with nothing to do for the summer. I tried going to a summer camp, but after accidentally cutting my leg open on a broken fence in the park, nearly drowning several times and having to sleep on a broken bunk-bed with no matress and insects for compan for a week decided to leave. My style at summer camp was purely practical, usually shorts or cut-off jeans and a hoodie that I was not afraid to make mesy and an old pairof boots.
The next year, my style very much evolved. Even though most of the old clothes I had stlii fit me perfectly....I stopped growing at about twelve....I decided to give them away and get new ones. For at least a month my wardrobe was very small, two skirts one of which a relative has made for me and another from my grandmother and several shirts, my favorite two being again my grandmother's. They are a black and a white cotton blouses with lace, and I still wear them today. I usually wore a black skirt about knee length with a white blouse and a large blacl bow on my head. Mu shoes were a pair of black pumps with almost no heel, and mu hair was about shoulder-lengt with no bangs.
By the end of seventh grade however, I had decided to take a step which to me now is even somewhat symbolic, get bangs for the first time, my relatives were still not sure they wanted that, and I had to cut my bangs myself. It was not perfect I must say, but already ten thousand times better then it was before. About a week later I went to the salon with a picture of a model whit short hair for the first time, wad when the hairstylist finished I ws amazed. It took one look in the mirrir to realize which of my relatives I reallu did look like: I was the photograph of Grand Dutchess Anastasia, in flesh. She is somebody whom I greatly admire, so you can imagine what the sudden discovery of my resemblance to her did for my self-coinfidence. That's it! I deciden no more baggy jeans, no more black t-shirts, no more ugly pumps, enough!
My year in eigth grade was completely diffrent. My clothes were chosen much more tastefully, my hair and makeup always neat. I had black tops with lace, lolita-style skirts, and several dresses. There were elegant necklaces and rings, and my eyeball ring which, unknowingly to me when I bought it, had once belonged to Marilyn Manson. I still hardly take it off. At that time, I pretty much refused to wear any shoe with less then two inches of a heel , well, because....remember, I did stop growing at twelve.
My style has evolved quite a lot since then, and I have discovered many more good places to shop. I had learned to sew and to alter clothes, as well as fix jewelery. However, I will stop writing at this, as here what I count as my beginner years pretty much end. I hope reading this helped you see that being a beginner is not only pefectly notmal, it is wonderful. It means that you are very creative, and are learning about yourself and the world around you.
I started to experiment with diffrent styles of fashion at an earlier age, maybe around eleven or twelve. And, considering that I was eleven or twelve, one can assume it did not look too good. Pale foundation looked terrible on olive skin, and the tons of skull clothes, striped socks and converse were not much better. Even so, I only remember getting one somewhat-rude comment at the time, somebody yelled something about Halloween at me in the beginning of december. It did not affect me much, as even then I did not really take the fashion authority of someone wearing a TNA hoodie and trainers. And it was fine, I was still learning and so were they.
However, sixth grade came to an end soon enough, and I was left with nothing to do for the summer. I tried going to a summer camp, but after accidentally cutting my leg open on a broken fence in the park, nearly drowning several times and having to sleep on a broken bunk-bed with no matress and insects for compan for a week decided to leave. My style at summer camp was purely practical, usually shorts or cut-off jeans and a hoodie that I was not afraid to make mesy and an old pairof boots.
The next year, my style very much evolved. Even though most of the old clothes I had stlii fit me perfectly....I stopped growing at about twelve....I decided to give them away and get new ones. For at least a month my wardrobe was very small, two skirts one of which a relative has made for me and another from my grandmother and several shirts, my favorite two being again my grandmother's. They are a black and a white cotton blouses with lace, and I still wear them today. I usually wore a black skirt about knee length with a white blouse and a large blacl bow on my head. Mu shoes were a pair of black pumps with almost no heel, and mu hair was about shoulder-lengt with no bangs.
By the end of seventh grade however, I had decided to take a step which to me now is even somewhat symbolic, get bangs for the first time, my relatives were still not sure they wanted that, and I had to cut my bangs myself. It was not perfect I must say, but already ten thousand times better then it was before. About a week later I went to the salon with a picture of a model whit short hair for the first time, wad when the hairstylist finished I ws amazed. It took one look in the mirrir to realize which of my relatives I reallu did look like: I was the photograph of Grand Dutchess Anastasia, in flesh. She is somebody whom I greatly admire, so you can imagine what the sudden discovery of my resemblance to her did for my self-coinfidence. That's it! I deciden no more baggy jeans, no more black t-shirts, no more ugly pumps, enough!
My year in eigth grade was completely diffrent. My clothes were chosen much more tastefully, my hair and makeup always neat. I had black tops with lace, lolita-style skirts, and several dresses. There were elegant necklaces and rings, and my eyeball ring which, unknowingly to me when I bought it, had once belonged to Marilyn Manson. I still hardly take it off. At that time, I pretty much refused to wear any shoe with less then two inches of a heel , well, because....remember, I did stop growing at twelve.
My style has evolved quite a lot since then, and I have discovered many more good places to shop. I had learned to sew and to alter clothes, as well as fix jewelery. However, I will stop writing at this, as here what I count as my beginner years pretty much end. I hope reading this helped you see that being a beginner is not only pefectly notmal, it is wonderful. It means that you are very creative, and are learning about yourself and the world around you.
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