Tuesday, November 27, 2012


Introductions are awkward. Especially written ones. On the train over the past hour I was trying to play out in my head creative ways to open this blog - to give a sense of context, tone and background. But everything I thought of just sounded cheesy and forced. Which I guess introductions usually are, and that's probably why I hate them. I have something of an unfounded phobia of cheesiness. More on this later.

It's funny how when you meet someone in person, you get a feel for so many things about them before they even have a chance to open their mouths. It's the weird, little things - the way they tilt their head, how they hold their hands and arms, and of course, what they are wearing. I try not to think of clothes as something for someone else, but of course they are. We may dress for ourselves but it's everyone else who looks at us throughout the day.

A lot of people claim they like clothes because it allows them to express their inner selves to the outer world. We don't have a ton of control over what our physical shells look like - yeah, there's makeup, tattoos, hair dye and I guess plastic surgery, but for the most part, you kind of get what you get. Clothes provide a sense of control over our bodies, and thus, ourselves.

The reason I personally like clothes is the same reason I like music. It gives me a sense of control over time, which I often feel is my greatest enemy. Clothes give me something to build my memories around. I went to my first NYC sample sale a few weeks ago and bought a pair of outrageously beautiful Alexander Wang booties. They were a little more than I wanted to spend, but I convinced myself to buy them because I knew that five years from now I would look at them and remember my first few months in New York - along with having my first job, being fresh out of college and finally having my own money (albeit not very much).

So I guess that brings me to me. For some reason I'm very much in the habit of talking about school and being a recent grad whenever someone asks me about myself, which is weird, because it's basically me just fixating on something that happened in the past. I graduated last May with a double major in Art History and Media Studies. Somehow, miraculously, after a long summer of beating myself up for choosing such "impractical" majors, I landed a job as a social media assistant for an NYC-based arts publication. But I guess even though I've physically moved on, I'm still not like, "over" college, in the way that one might say they are over an ex. It's still just so fucking surreal to me that my childhood is gone once and for all and now I exist in this big bad world, along with everyone else.

I grew up in the DC area, so it's not like I had a sheltered upbringing or anything. In fact, if I think about it, it feels like the past seven or eight years of my life have been one long, drawn out rebellious phase. I guess what really gets me about life in the "real world" (barf) is that there is no foreseeable end. There's no graduation date. There's no schedule around which to plan my life that pretty much everyone else around me is also a part of. It's all me, from here on out.

And I think I want to be a fashion writer. I guess I always thought that but never really had the balls to admit it because come on - how many people make it doing that? But at my age, if you don't  at least give your wildest dreams a fair shot then you're cheating yourself. I never imagined anyone would actually pay me to do anything, and that happened, so you never know, right?

Anyway, part of my job is to promote the fashion content that the site I work for produces, so I spend a lot of time looking around at other fashion blogs and websites, not that I wouldn't anyway. And honestly? I'm really annoyed by a lot of what is out there. All these women with their perfect highlights and manicured nails and ridiculous handbags - yeah, they're beautiful and their outfits are fun to look at, but with that kind of money there would have to be something seriously wrong for you to not look good. But that isn't most people and it certainly isn't me. Don't get me wrong, I love fashion and I like looking good, but if it comes between staying home and fixing my stupid chipped nails and going out and raging with my friends, guess which one I would pick?

I'm hoping this blog will end up being a nice little mashup of personal style pictures, fashion articles and probably a lot of brain vom. Hopefully it will be juicy brain vom, though. And now that I've thoroughly disgusted you, keep on reading, please!

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