Fenchurch Street to Tower Hill. Then the Circle Line to Shepherds Bush Market. And finally, a five minute walk to the destination. Simple. There is something terrifying about university open days, particularly if you are abandoned by your parents. University is about gaining independence and freedom, yet when the open days arrive we latch to our parents like a lock unable to move without the shadowy reassurance of their presence. We will for their opinions but when they disclose, they’re attacked for suffocating us. My palms sweat as I approach my destination; sunlight streaming through the filthy, graffiti-ridden windows. The train slows, and I stand, willing my muscles upright against the force of the halting train. A glimmer catches the corner of my eye. There sits a girl, of the same age, in a glossy, pastel-pink coloured leather jacket. My mind fights for the enviable pink- jacketed girl to stand, escaping the loneliness, but she does not and I exit the train.
My five minute walk to the destination of course turns into a twenty minute walk, to which I still end up being too early. Here comes the ‘I’m lonely, pick up your phone’ call to my best friend, while I struggle to determine who carries themselves alike a fashion student. We’re a different breed, you know. Then to my surprise, the pink-jacketed girl walks to the ever-looming university entrance. I follow accordingly and immediately I’m greeted with praise for my outfit; this is my kind of friend. We follow each other into the building, a nervous excitement building in the pits of our stomachs like a flower blooming in the spring. Hoardes of impeccably dressed individuals enter the canteen, our temporary waiting room, and I find we are the only two to be unaccompanied by our parents.
It is difficult to acknowledge other’s realities and it is impossible to imagine the way one would be if we were in a different reality. If we did not have our home, our family, our friends; yet I was astonished to find that Sigita had travelled from Lithuania, her mother currently in Vietnam, alone. A contrasting reality to my experience that morning, living only forty-five minutes away from central London. She tells me she fell in love with the city long ago, ‘the fashion, vibe, people, and cultural diversity’; all the things that make the city of London mesmerising.
The love for family is second-nature to most and Sigita voices the apprehensions of studying and residing away from her loved ones, particularly her mother and grandmother, as well as her best friend. London is dissimilar to any city and she expresses her adoration for her hometown, Vilnius, a place she has a ‘deep and strong connection with’, where she finds solace, ‘clarity and stability’. London is a city filled with diversity; of languages, cultures, art and cuisine to which Sigita is ‘extremely excited’ about. Her eyes lighten with the thought of the lights, the sights and the wealth of inspiration to be consumed in the city, though the rising living costs leaves her to question how she will support herself on her own; her face faltering, before returning to the kindness and joy that radiates from her facial features.
Our conversation leads to a subject, seemingly inescapable in the current political climate; Brexit. She expresses her sadness, her delight faltering once more about the weakness to which she believes has been placed on both Great Britain and the European Union. Alike all those from Europe, currently in the UK, she worries about whether her employment and housing chances will be affected. Study costs are already expensive, particularly for EU students and it is no wonder of the concern for her ambitions of the future. Though, it is not to say that this will rupture her dream. Her courage and determination to remain calm throughout such chaos is commendable.
I admire her pale-pink leather jacket and we move onto lighter conversation; fashion. I am curious to discover whether there is a difference between fashion in London and Lithuania, and she commends London for its ‘bold and colourful’ style and I am surprised to hear that the difference is ‘major’, despite being only a two-hour flight away. ‘Post-Soviet influence’ is evident in Lithuania and Sigita expresses her dislike for the ‘conservative and grey’ nature of Lithuanian fashion, seemingly unseen in her eclectic outfit. ‘Diversity and uniqueness is celebrated in London’ and her excitement of the passing of each individual leaves her in awe of the style of those around us. The world inspires her and she describes fashion as the ‘switch [of] characters’ allowing her to be a ‘different person everyday’.
Though we move to what really cements a friendship in the modern world, ‘I have to follow you on Instagram!’
*All images are from Google and I do not own them*
*All images are from Google and I do not own them*
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