<p>Find a way to get it in your essay. For instance:</p>
<p>"I don't remember my clothes being a big deal until middle school. I liked my clothes in grade school. Hand-me-downs and thrift-store garments have two great advantages over new ones: They're comfortable from the first time you put them on and, if you tear a hole in one of them, there's a pretty good chance of replacing it for $.50 or less. Besides, no one minded if I drew beautiful butterflies on them, sewed on buttons or patches, or mixed pedal pushers with peasant smocks. Heck, I was the Kennedy Elementary queen of fashion.</p>
<p>Middle school changed all that.</p>
<p>It turns out that clothing labels are important. You can argue all you want that they're important only to shallow people. You may even be right. That doesn't change the fact that the girls who run middle schools in my neighborhood care about labels, and anyone who doesn't wear the proper labels is not invited to the proper social gatherings, invited to sit at the proper lunch tables, or asked to that first dance by a boy, proper or not.</p>
<p>Of course, I asked my Mom for those clothes. I'm afraid I wasn't very kind to her. Even now, I can close my eyes and see the pain on her face as she told me, for the first time, that we didn't have much money, and that we weren't ever likely to have much. I remember saying horrible things to her, things that shame me even now, about her inability to provide those clothes I desperately, desperately needed to change my outcast status. </p>
<p>I know now what she wouldn't tell me, then. Single mothers in textile mills work their fingers to the bone just to provide enough to keep their children alive and healthy. All the label girls at schools had dads who wore ties and dropped their children off in shiny, gun-metal-gray cars that, seemingly, had never seen a dent or a scratch. I'll bet they nearly always started when you turned the key, too. But that can't be right, can it?</p>
<p>In the end, it worked out. I grew up. Some of the label girls did, too. We went on to high school. I learned to design and make my own clothes. Now I'm the queen of fashion again. My Mom fields calls at least once a week from some mother who is desperate to know where I bought that slash-sleeved tunic or cool accessory. She tells them the truth: I made it. Often, that leads to an offer to make one for this or that daughter. Sometimes, I make money that way.</p>
<p>I wonder how the girls who wear my clothes feel about my label."</p>
<p>Or something like that. You get the picture, I'm sure.</p>