And Yes, I Dug Out the Rhinestones and Low-Rise Jeans
Day 0: The Closet Time Capsule
I didn’t just decide to dress like my 2005 self on a whim. It started with a late-night scroll through old MySpace screenshots (don’t ask how I found them), followed by a dive into the back of my closet — or, as I now call it, The Time Capsule.
There they were: my bootcut jeans with fake distressing, a “Drama Queen” graphic tee, and enough bangles to set off a TSA alarm. It hit me — nostalgia fashion is more than a trend. It’s a portal. And I was about to step through it.
Day 1: Velour, Vibes, and Judgy Looks
I started strong: a hot pink Juicy Couture knockoff tracksuit (hoodie unzipped just enough) paired with chunky Skechers and oversized sunglasses. Think Paris Hilton, but with student loan debt.
The barista gave me a half-smile that said, “Did I miss something? Is it 2005 again?”
Answer: yes. Yes, it is.
What I noticed: I walked taller. I wasn’t trying to be chic or minimalist. I was trying to be loud, fun, and a little extra. And I felt good.
Day 2: Layered Tanks and a Side of Existential Crisis
Remember when layering tank tops in three clashing colors was cool? I do now.
I wore a lime green cami over a hot pink one (visible straps mandatory), paired with denim capris and plastic ballet flats. Not practical. Not breathable. But oh-so-2005.
A teen at the mall asked if I was doing “some kind of TikTok challenge.”
“No,” I replied. “I’m reliving my emotional peak.”
Day 3: Sk8r Boi Energy
This one was for the Avril in all of us. Oversized band tee. Arm warmers (why?). Studded belt. Converse covered in doodles.
This outfit transported me straight back to burning mixed CDs and texting on a Motorola Razr.
What struck me was how fashion then wasn’t trying to flatter. It was trying to speak. You didn’t wear things because they were “slimming” — you wore them because they told the world who your favorite band was.
Nostalgia fashion is unapologetically expressive. And there’s power in that.
Day 4: The Low-Rise Reckoning
Here’s the thing: low-rise jeans should come with a warning label. Like, “may induce body image flashbacks.”
I paired mine with a halter top, frosted lip gloss, and the confidence of a 17-year-old who thought glitter was a personality trait.
Functionality? Zero. Sass level? Off the charts.
Still, by the end of the day, I missed high-waisted anything. Some things can stay in 2005.
Day 5: The Emo Girl Reboot
By Friday, I fully leaned into mall goth nostalgia. Fishnets under a denim miniskirt. Black eyeliner so thick I looked like I hadn’t slept since My Chemical Romance’s first album.
Strangers didn’t say much. They just gave me the look. You know the one.
But internally? I was blasting Fall Out Boy and overthinking my entire personality — just like old times.
Day 6: Saturday Night (and the Tiny Purse)
No 2005 tribute would be complete without a going out look. Cue the metallic cami, the micro handbag (fits a ChapStick and a dream), and painfully pointy kitten heels.
I felt like a Bratz doll in the best way. Someone even complimented my “throwback look,” which made me feel both flattered and fossilized.
Turns out, fashion ages, but fabulous is forever.
Day 7: Cropped Cardis and Reflection
The final outfit? Bootcut jeans (again), a cropped cardigan over a lace cami, and a choker necklace I thought I’d lost.
Sitting in that outfit, I thought about who I was in 2005: loud, insecure, deeply into horoscopes.
But also: expressive, creative, unafraid to try.
That version of me didn’t know what “aesthetic” was. She just wore what made her feel something.
What I Learned: The Power of Dressing Loud
This week wasn’t just about clothes. It was about energy. The fashion of 2005 wasn’t minimalist or curated. It was chaotic, maximalist, and deeply personal.
And honestly? That’s what made it magical.
Nostalgia fashion reminds us that style doesn’t always need to be sleek — sometimes it should just be fun. Cringe-worthy? Maybe. But also freeing.
Would I Do It Again?
Maybe not the low-rise jeans. Definitely not the jelly bracelets (those things hurt). But the spirit of 2005? That’s coming with me.
From now on, I’m letting a little more sparkle, sass, and side-swooped hair energy into my wardrobe. Because dressing like your past self isn’t regression — it’s reconnection.
Your Turn: What Was Your 2005 Look?
Dig up those old photos. Wear something ridiculous. Reclaim the parts of yourself that once got excited about scented body spray and rhinestone belts.
And if anyone asks what you’re doing, just say:
“I’m channeling my inner legend.”
