What is, who is, where is fashionable? Asking
that question to myself is like asking an acquaintance how their day was;
they're probably going to tell you it was "good." Someone could tell
me their day was good when really they felt two handfuls of different emotions. There are so many answers to
what makes something, someone or someplace fashionable. I’m still trying to
figure out what my answer would be; I’ve changed my style, look, likes around
five times since starting college three and a half years ago.
I go
through such intense phases with things. Some last longer than others. In fifth
grade it was wearing the jewelry from game Pretty Pretty Princess to school. My
idea, it was. My friends, they did the same thing. I was a trendsetter back
then. I’d like to think I still am, and I have solid evidence that I have
continued to be since those middle school days. While we’re on the subject, I
was the first person in high school (tenth grade) to wear gray UGG boots. Short classics in grey, size 8 for me. For
Christmas that year, guess who got grey UGG boots? Fucking everyone. I thought
I was the best person on the planet for having grey UGGs before the 1,000 other girls
in my Pennsylvania public school. I guess I felt a sense of entitlement back
then, but I think, hopefully, that I let my modesty hide that well enough. I
sit in grey sweatpants two sizes too big and six year old L.L. Bean not-so-furry-anymore moccasins pretending to know what I’m talking about. Fashion is such an
opinionated conversation that it’s hard to keep up with. You don’t want to say
something other people think is wrong because you don’t want to be wrong about
fashion. It is a place where it encourages people to take risks but is
literally being judged by those judged to be important enough to do the
judging. It’s scary because the conversation is always
changing and everyone is following a new leader or a design is going in a new direction. I’m definitely
fan-girling on fashion but I figure I better be shameless if I want to end up
in New York City with my best friend and my boyfriend and work in
fashion. It is so attractive and diverse and keeps everyone on their toes, and
I want to be apart of it.
I
have this blog because I keep too much in my head. I like talking about fashion
with people who enjoy it as much as I do and with people who are intrigued by
it. But I think I’m afraid that people look down on people who like fashion and
follow fashion and are apart of the fashion world because people who like
expensive clothes are materialistic and therefore stupid and mean. This is
certainly true for many, many people, unfortunately. But I respect those who work in
fashion and those who like fashion and follow fashion when they do so for the
right reasons.
I
have this blog because apparently I have all of these 200-miles-per-hour-fast
thoughts going through my mind about one word: fashion. It’s something I want
to immerse myself in to see if I can try to understand it better.
I
have my own style, although it changes regularly. Right now it’s “comfort
>>>>>>>>.” Literally “>>>>>>:” more
important than anything else. I’m not even sure if that’s a style but either
way I’m running out of the allotted time to be allowed to wear some type of
comfortable pant that isn’t denim before it becomes questioned and frowned
upon by those regularly around. A plus is that I’m killing the sneaker game since sneakers = comfort; Nikes
and Vans fer days.
Warning:
I ramble a fuck ton. And a I curse a lot. But I’m hoping to fill this space
with not only words but photos and, if I find time, videos, or at least an
Instagram widget that will update its feed every time I post to Instagram, which is
usually every 3 weeks. I also practice bad habits. I forget easily, bite my
nails, commit to too much and agree with too much. I hope that this blog breaks
more than one of these habits. Hopefully I’ll remember to post regularly, stop
biting my nails because I’m too busy typing, slow down during the busiest semester
of my time as a student and voice my opinion in a way that’s fresh and
relatable.
I
think it’s more realistic to say that along the way I will gain cohesiveness in
the content on my blog, but for now, I have no idea what direction I will take
it in. Hopefully I will take it all the way to NYC, but for now I’ll take it back
to my couch, in Philadelphia, where I sit with my two roommates, one of who’s
brother’s dog we’ve been illegally babysitting for a week. His ear keeps twitching as I type this.
I’m
a journalism student in Philadelphia. I’m the youngest of three girls. I love
ice cream. I don’t smoke cigarettes and I recently switched from massive
amounts of coffee to green tea, so I don’t even know if I'll be allowed to exist in fashion.
