This is it, dear readers. My final column at USC. 

It is incredibly bittersweet to be writing this, as I can still vividly remember writing my first-ever installment of this column — I can still remember applying to the Daily Trojan! As I desperately search for a summer sublet (anyone looking?) and begin packing my room up, I spent the last week wondering what I should say in this piece.

Should I continue as normal and report on the fashion world? Should I give a trend prediction? Or should I not write at all? It felt only appropriate to take this uncertainty and indecisiveness into one final reflective piece. 

Truthfully, my relationship with fashion has changed drastically while writing these pieces. I’ve been forced to face questions of its meaning both to the world as a whole and to me, and see the industry as a force of nature in all walks of life. Like turning from a shining diamond to a sedimentary rock, the bits and pieces poking through only excite me with the way fashion will change — and change me — in years to come. 

But the sedimentary rock is also the best visualization I could give of what fashion is like to my understanding. It came to me this weekend at the Museum of Contemporary Art. Reading on Vincent Valdez’s 2024 “It Was a Very Good Year (Nineteen Eighty-Seven/Eighty-Eight),” the last line of the description on the museum plaque commented on how the piece “tells itself the convoluted story of American realism, idealism and exceptionalism.” 

It is true: We are heading into uncertain times that feel unfamiliar despite the haunting shadow of the past. Just like fashion, history and economics are forces that are tied to the possibility of the future and reminders of times before, and the result of the “now” is a murky mystery that’s neither “good” nor “bad.” 

Fashion, though, is one of the few industry exceptions that benefits from accepting and playing off of its public image, whether rumors and stereotypes are true or not. Understanding that fashion can be both good or bad objectively, true fashion — that is, the ability to create and inspire — allows for the industry as a business and as an art form to rise above the crushing weight of expectation from all audiences, fashion-educated or not. 

It reminds me of the interview Abbas Kiarostami gave for his 1990 film, “Close-Up.” He played off of René Descartes’ phrase, “I think, therefore I am,” stating instead, “There’s an image of me, therefore I am.” Kiarostami is correct that we become what we see, whether it is reality or not, providing ample reasoning behind why clothing is armor for some while others view it as too costly in price and usage. 

Still, the power in its ability to be the beauty of the beholder means that it can work to persuade those who doubt while keeping current lovers happy. Especially in an age where content is consumed all the time, fashion has been able to adapt to the ebbs and flows because of the very reason that it consistently has more potential than its current state. It is a constant in concept and in deliverance, despite the limited and physical nature of the item.  

We need to apply this same philosophy to ourselves, though. It is strange how quickly we judge and forgive inanimate objects, while we torment ourselves with our misunderstandings of dynamic beings and industries. As a result, we delay, scared to live spontaneously and grow, unlike the courageous patterns and playful palettes of fashion houses looking to hit a home run. 

But its inability to knock the ball out of the park for every single critic is what makes fashion human and understandable to me. While I can write and explain this one million times, the truth is my words still may not convince you to see your skirts the same way that I do — and that is beautiful.

Misunderstandings and beautiful things create dialogue and discourse, something we all desperately need in this time of severed emotional communication. Whether it comes from stillness or learning to listen to the dress that calls your name, to learn to disagree with an open mind is what fashion is all about. 

So listen with your eyes and watch with your ears as you allow compulsions and curiosity to drive your relationship with clothes. Time is far too short to be serious all the time, and much less fun to do so in your least favorite outfit. Stop making sense and find peace in the loud buzz of clothing racks, swishing fabrics and heel clicks. 

Be the clothes and let the clothes become you — because that is fashion, sweetie. 

To my Daily Trojan family, thank you for supporting me and my fashion nonsense over the past four years. A special thank you to Kimberly Aguirre for seeing my vision and pushing me to explore it since our first class together. And finally, all my love to you, reader. May your life be full of vintage grails and your wardrobe filled with your dream pieces. 

Hadyn Phillips is a senior writing about fashion in the 21st century, spotlighting new trends and popular controversy in her column, “That’s Fashion, Sweetie,” which ran every Wednesday.