Yin-Yang chokers: You fill a lull in conversations with the word “clams.”

Denim jackets: Your drink of choice is an Orange Julius.

Baggy jeans: You have a framed black-and-white photocopied portrait of George Orwell hanging over your toilet.

Vests: You once carved your science teacher’s name into a tree with a mechanical pencil.

Overalls: You’re resistant to tickling.

One-shoulder overalls: You’re resistant to tickling and acupuncture.

Big-ass flower bucket hats: You carry brass knuckles in the center console of your car.

Crushed velvet: Pigeons and ducks at the park avoid you, even when you are clutching fistfuls of artisanal bread.

Mini backpacks: You’re a long-lost descendent of the Danish royal family.

Chain wallets: You once licked the back of a Post-it to see if it tasted like a stamp.

Fanny packs: You have half of your life savings hidden under the floorboards of your spare bedroom.

Over-plucked eyebrows: You’re training to become a certified Barre instructor.

Babydoll dresses: You’ve attempted to grow your own magic mushrooms. More than once.

Starter jackets: You make a mean shrimp rangoon.

Frayed, sprayed bangs: If you could do it all over again, your life would’ve included more staring contests.

Looney Tunes T-shirts: You’re well-versed in Pig Latin and Slinky physics.

Bowl haircuts: Fish fingers are one of your main food groups.

Chunky-heeled sneakers: You were twice kicked out of a bar—once for sleeping, and another time for getting stuck in the bathroom window.

Dark lipliner with light lipstick: You don’t believe in honeymoons, baby showers or climate change.

Flannel shirts: You clean out your ears with your car key.

Manic Panic hair color: Your pet name for your sweetheart is “butt nugget.”

“No makeup” makeup: You have a 3-D tattoo and live in a treehouse.

Aztec patterned shirts: You once got your forearm stuck inside a tube of Pringles.

Daisies: Instead of “champagne,” you call your favorite tipple by the brief emotional respite it grants you: “cham-joy.”