Sometimes the clothes fit
before you do.
Second-hand Identity looks at the strange comfort of becoming the person your clothes suggest you might be. Every thrifted jacket, oversized shirt and worn-out pair of boots carries someone else’s history, while quietly helping you invent your own. It’s about dressing like you’ve already figured yourself out, even when you’re still trying things on.
Found this jacket in the clearance bin
Still smells like someone else’s skin
Fits me better than it probably should
Guess I’m good at looking misunderstood
Mirror says I look the part
Like I planned it from the start
But every seam is stitched all wrong
Nothing here actually belongs
I dress like I don’t care at all
But I practiced in the fitting stall
Every thread’s a little lie
Trying on a different life
You say it suits me I just nod
Act like I earned it like it’s not
Second-hand identity
Hanging loose but stuck on me
If I take it off what’s left underneath?
Same old mess I can’t quite keep
Just another layer I can’t afford
To throw away or move toward
I dress like I don’t care at all
But I practiced in the fitting stall
Every thread’s a little lie
Trying on a different life
I dress like I don’t care at all
But I practiced in the fitting stall
Every thread’s a little lie
Trying on a different life
(different life different life)
Still fits
Somehow
Yeah still fits