The Story of My Life

Four years ago (fourth grade): "Why are you wearing THAT?! Save it for middle school." ( Middle school started in seventh grade)
Two years ago (sixth grade): "You're wearing that? Why are you so dressed up?"
One year ago (seventh grade): "Why are you wearing jeans, boots, and a trench coat? It's, like, 80 degrees out! Aren't you burning?"

Two days ago I came to school dressed in blue jean shorts, an oversized blue sweatshirt, and white converse low tops. I feel like these critical questions that have been continuously asked of me are wearing out my creative flair.
I am easily the only one of me who has ever walked the halls of my school. A short description if you are needing descripting: "petite", blonde, and incredibly chic.
I feel like the Abercrombie and Fitch wearing drones that make up nearly 60 percent of my school's population are trying to zap me with their "follow the herd" ray gun. I can assure you that I am the only one in atleast 15 years to walk around my school in three-inch heeled booties. The only time girls at my school would be caught in anything with more heel than an Ugg boot would be when they were playing in an orchestra concert and were locked into mandatory formality. This is life in the suburbs.