Dressed to Express: How I Found My Style

I grew up surrounded by fashion. My mother went to school for it, so our house was always full of stacks of Women’s Wear Daily, dog-eared issues of Vogue, and racks of clothes that felt like a museum I was allowed to play in. Before I could spell “couture,” I was flipping through runway coverage and studying how a silhouette could change the whole mood of a room. That early exposure gave me an eye for detail and a belief that clothing is a language, not just something you put on in the morning.

My real love for experimental dressing took off in college. Going to school in Los Angeles exposed me to everything at once: vintage shops on Melrose, thrift hauls in Silver Lake, street style on Abbot Kinney, and a city where nobody blinks if you show up to class in platform boots and a mesh top. LA taught me that there are no rules, only choices, and I started treating my closet like a creative project. Some days were minimal and sleek, other days were full-on costume, and every outfit was a chance to try out a new version of myself.

Music festivals pushed that even further. Working at and attending events like Coachella and Burning Man completely broke open my sense of what fashion could be. At Burning Man especially, getting dressed is an art form: chrome bodysuits, fringe that catches the desert wind, goggles, body chains, faux fur at 3 a.m. when the temperature drops. Being surrounded by people who dress with that much fearlessness made me braver. I learned to mix textures, clash prints, wear sequins in daylight, and treat glitter as a neutral. Those festival grounds became my runway and my laboratory.

Day to day, I love brands that feel bold, playful, and a little rebellious. I’m always shopping at Revolve, Missguided, Jaded London, Outcast, and Diesel, along with favorites like Dolls Kill, I.AM.GIA, Motel Rocks, Poster Girl, and Lioness. I also love digging for independent designers on Depop and at local pop-ups, because the most interesting pieces in my closet are usually the ones nobody else has.

When it comes to high-end fashion, I gravitate toward designers who are creative, spunky, and unapologetically sexy. Mugler’s sculpted, powerful silhouettes; Jean Paul Gaultier’s corsetry and cheeky irreverence; Vivienne Westwood’s punk romance; Versace’s glamour; and Blumarine’s flirty, Y2K-tinged femininity all live rent-free in my head. I adore the playfulness of Miu Miu, the cut-out, rule-breaking designs of Coperni, the vibrant energy of Mowalola, the edgy sensuality of Ottolinger, and the delicate, body-skimming draping of Di Petsa. Rick Owens is my go-to when I’m craving something dark and dramatic.

For me, fashion has never been about following trends. It’s about expression, confidence, and having fun with who I am on any given day. Whether I’m teaching a sunrise class, dancing at a festival, or walking down a city street on the other side of the world, what I wear is one more way of telling my story.