It all started with a “Land of the Free, Home of the Brave” T-shirt three years ago.
As a wide-eyed first-year coming to America for the third time in my life, I was mesmerized by the American flag and bald eagle soaring across the chest of this thrifted garment.
Apprehensively — and sensing that I was venturing into unknown and controversial fashion territory — I swiped my card and brought the Americana-patriotic memorabilia home.
Until a random Wednesday, after a couple of weeks of sitting in the back of my closet, I finally whipped that rag out. I was ready to confront my fears.
But what was I so afraid of?
Mostly, I was afraid that passers-by would see me rocking the American slogan and symbols of patriotism and freedom and assume my political views. We have all seen American pride shirts being worn in public, but rarely on a liberal college campus. I was scared of people taking the message on my clothing at face value and becoming associated with people who would wear the T-shirt unironically.
I was terrified of getting canceled.
I thought that maybe I’d risk less if I experimented with my “Land of the Free” top. So, without even picking up a pair of scissors, I ripped off its sleeves, taking the shirt from borderline problematic to full-blown douchey.
“There is no way that anybody who knows me would think that I’m wearing this Texas frat bro shirt because I’m obsessed with traditional American values,” I thought to myself. “They have to know it’s ironic.”
Perhaps you grew up around patriotic fashion — and perhaps it seems embarrassing or cringey to you — but to me, a foreigner to the United States and American culture, this fashion phenomenon is the single most amusing cultural aspect that I have uncovered during my time in Claremont.
“Mostly, I was afraid that passers-by would see me rocking the American slogan and symbols of patriotism and freedom and assume my political views.”
Patriotic fashion is very unique to the United States. You would never see anybody in Europe sporting a presidential candidate’s merchandise or wearing their country’s flag and symbol on a T-shirt. (Unless it is a soccer jersey or you happen to be a tourist wearing an “I Heart Milan” shirt — those are the exceptions.) What’s more, if you put up your country’s flag outside your house, your neighbors will think that you’ve gone mad.
This is not to say that I think that either Europeans or Americans are right in their conceptions of patriotism and nationality. But from an outsider’s perspective, I do think that the American way is amusing. While the sheer number of American flags flying around can be suffocating (we get it, we’re in America), the passion with which the American people show off their patriotism is fascinating.
Coming up to the end of my junior year, I have come to totally and enthusiastically embrace the America-core aesthetic.
Oversized shirts with the American flag and endless bald eagles, hunting camouflage overalls from Bass Pro Shop, an American flag bandana and cargo shorts — America-boo who?
The fashion journey from that first T-shirt purchase to now has not been easy, though.
Every time I step out in something with an American flag or an in-your-face “Go America” slogan on it, I hesitate to leave my room — especially if I know that I will be walking around Scripps College or Pomona College. To be clear, this apprehension is not because of campus politics — I just have a fashion repertoire on my home campus, Claremont McKenna College, where passers-by know me and my true social and political stances. Being a foreigner in the United States helps too because my America-boo outfits more clearly stem from a fascination with an unfamiliar culture, not an endorsement of a political candidate or ideology.
While I’m all for taking risks and making people whip their heads around in shock at your outfit, I will give this disclaimer: You will get judged and be stared at.
Yes, it’s a shame that your values and identity can be challenged by anyone who has never seen or spoken to you before simply based on the shirt that you are wearing, but you cannot control people’s biases. So don’t think twice about them.
To me, fashion is a lot about intention: the intention behind why you chose to pair two pieces together, the intention behind why you chose to draw attention to a specific item on your body and the intention of what you want your clothing to reflect about you.
When I wear my America-boo fits, my genuine intention is to make people laugh and maybe even challenge people a little bit — challenge them to have a conversation with me and get to know me, instead of deriving my views, values and intentions from my clothing.
As long as you are not wearing anything hateful or offensive, then there’s no harm in being a little provocative. And an America-core outfit is not hurting anyone — we are in America, after all.
Fashion is an art form and without controversialness and innovation, it would be boring. Just because art is supposed to challenge viewers’ preconceptions doesn’t mean that the artist actually holds the view that their art presents. Think about this concept in terms of literature and visual art.
To those who have never considered the possibility of fashion being ironic and purposefully provocative: Don’t be so quick to judge others.
If you see an interesting or provocative outfit, approach its stylist and open up the conversation. If somebody had asked me about my America-core looks, then I probably wouldn’t feel the need to write this article.
I bet our Claremont fashionistas have some groundbreaking motivations behind their daily looks that they are dying to share with you.
Elizaveta (Lisa) Gorelik CM ’25 is from Moscow, Russia. Her spring break in Utah has given her much-needed America-core fashion inspiration.