How Motherhood Reshaped My Relationship with Fashion.

Without sounding cliché, I have always had a deep passion for fashion. For as long as I can remember, I’ve cared about clothing—not just how it looks, but how it feels and what it represents. Through experimentation, I learned how to dress in a way that felt comfortable for my body. I even went as far as making my own clothes and altering existing pieces—something that admittedly got me into trouble with my parents. The signs were always there. Fashion has always been a constant in my life.

It is how I express myself and define my identity. It’s a core part of who I am and how I interpret the world around me. From designing outfits for my dolls, to devouring fashion magazines as a teenager, to pursuing it professionally, fashion has always been my language. In many ways, it is a universal language. Every person uses it daily to tell a story. Some do so unintentionally, while others, like me, are more deliberate—but either way, its significance cannot be overlooked. Personal style becomes truly personal when you allow it to be shaped by contrast. There is so much to learn from those whose style differs from your own. By observing and interpreting elements from their choices, you can translate them into something that feels authentic to you. Rather than trying to replicate others, it’s about refining your own perspective.

Motherhood, however, shifted my relationship with fashion in ways I didn’t anticipate. After becoming a mom, how I felt in my clothes became far more important than how I looked. Having gained over 40 kilograms, I found myself navigating a body I didn’t recognize—for the first time identifying as “plus-size.” I no longer had the time or emotional capacity to feel uncomfortable, self-conscious, or preoccupied with constant adjustments. Despite how effortlessly motherhood is often portrayed online, the reality can be challenging. During that time, I dressed in ways that felt safe—often prioritizing concealment over expression. I was dressing around my body rather than for it. Looking back, I don’t feel that my fashion choices between 2016 and 2025 were entirely my own; they were shaped by insecurity rather than authenticity.

Over time, I’ve come to understand that personal style is not fixed. It is a living, evolving expression of who we are—shifting as we grow, change, and experience life. I have always dreamed of having daughters. As someone who deeply values femininity, fashion, and beauty, it felt like a natural extension of who I am. Today, I feel incredibly fortunate to have a daughter who is intelligent, expressive, and already developing her own sense of style. She embodies pieces of my mother, my sister, and myself—a beautiful continuation of the women who came before her. It is one of the greatest honours of my life to guide and witness her journey, and I intend to embrace it wholeheartedly.