Pretending to be a Fashion Blogger

Being in Colorado for a little over a week meant packing a suitcase (groan). That being said I could only bring so much with me-which primarily involved dirty laundry (because I don't really enjoy putting things that touch my crotch in washing machines used by people that aren't related to me....jk, that's just my excuse for being lazy). I'd also like to note that I packed maybe 20 minutes before I had to run out of my apartment. I guess sometimes limited resources lead to great success! Here I will explain the 3 dresses that were my stand-out pieces back home.

This dress is from my internship-a sad little article of clothing that was waiting in a pile of poorly folded (by me) clothing for someone to love it . If there's one thing that I've really come to appreciate during my internship it has been craftsmanship. My wardrobe is filled with Forever 21, H&M, and sprinkled with "brand"s which are primarily known for their name and not their quality. Although I enjoy my sense of style and love all my clothes in an unhealthy, obsessive-boyfriend kind of way, I've come to find that some clothes just....feel good. I don't have to fiddle with this dress all day long-she does what she's supposed to. Just sit there and act pretty. I guess that's what you get for $350 retail.

As the Betsey Johnson ship was sinking I gathered up my hard-earned cash and headed to the sample sale. I definitely do not do this dress justice; it is absolutely precious. I could barely get the zipper up but I had to have and how perfect is it for attending a wedding rehearsal. I'm like the weird daughter my Dad's new wife never wanted. Surprise! I guess that's what you get for $350 retail.

This last dress I really am not too fond of. I hemmed it the night before the wedding and did a less than stellar job - but then again, hey! It's not like I'm the one getting married. It was, however, perfect for my position in the wedding. I was chucking flower petals as if it were a fuckin internship. Yeah, internship, not job, because more ass-kissing than money-making was involved in this endeavor. Nonetheless, at least I got to wear a bra. Long live strap-ful dresses! And check out that cowl....mmmmmm, gurrrrrrl.


As for the rest of my time, this is what I looked like...

Back in the City - Back to Reality

big city, small connections

Living in NYC, I've come to realize how strange people are. Everyone has a story. Growing up in Denver I think that it was difficult for me to realize this because people living in the west don't like to admit their insecurites, not to mention we have way less contact with eachother. When you take away subways, rows and rows of busy streets, and mixed residential/commercial neighborhoods it's easy to see how easy it is to emit a Stepford apearance.

But I suppose the beauty of NYC's individuality comes at a price: anonymity. Everyday I interact with hundreds of different people. I've gotten to know such a little fraction of them and make up back stories for the rest. But the ones you truly get to know, get to understand, get to empathize with are precious, amazing, wonderful, and rare. Even if their story is bleak, even if they've found themselves in a rut, even if they're a shity human being, I think it's important to listen. Americans avoid revelations; they see their worlds in black and white and often prefer not to deviate from their core values. I think this is because they refuse to listen. Everyone's reality is different but they're all intermingling, entangled, and ultimately effect one-another.

I write all this because I've come across quite a few people who have opened up to me recently. One person I'd consider myself fairly close to told me about their somewhat disturbing childhood. Another confidant opened up about how s/he has a partner on the side of his/her serious relationship to help improve his/her self worth (and the significant other being ok with and even encouraging the situation). When I came back from Colorado I had the chance to meet a close acquaintance's friends, something I never thought would happen.  And in reality I've shared a lot about myself with others as well; I refused to welcome one friend into my room until fairly recently because I knew of their obsession with cleanliness and order. I've told a handful about some "secrets" I've been harboring (but honestly wish I could just treat as normal facts of life). I've even come to realize one of my biggest faults through an intimate conversation with someone I am fairly close to yet very different from: my inability to formulate questions. I live in my own little bubble and it's amazing to me when people make an effort to penetrate it-and over all it's something that I can't help but appreciate.

I guess it's rare to be able to find someone you trust enough to talk candidly about abnormalities of life but it is essential. Otherwise we'd all just be anonymous anomalies to one another.

the family I've made for myself

Aarati and Nina: I love you!

Lately, I've gotten into the habit of starting blog post and never finishing them for various reasons. In the past few weeks I've found myself in a darker place than I'd prefer to be and I'd rather not spread negativity on my blog so I figured I'd find something that brings me great joy to write about. While looking through pictures on my phone I came across a picture of the two people who I am lucky enough to share an apartment with.

As some of you may know, I have traveled back to the motherland (Coloradooooo!) for a week and have found myself very homesick....homesick for my apartment and the two wonderful girls who I share it with. Granted, I love being home and I love being surrounded by people who love me and I love (and miss), but with that also comes stress. At my Brooklyn home I feel like I can be whoever I want to be and can be as candid as I need. Many of my friends have had roommate troubles but I've never even encountered anything like that. The few year I've spent at Pratt I've been blessed with amazing roommates and suitemates, really. In fact, these two shared the suite with me freshman year.

I've spent way too much time watching Sex and the City; there's a specific quote that has always stuck with me and is perhaps one of the reasons why the show resonates so well with me.:
"The most important thing in life is your family. There are days you love them, and others you don't, but in the end they're the people you always come home to. Sometimes it's the family you're born into and sometimes it's the one you make for yourself."

I love my mother, my father, my brothers, aunts and uncles but at this time in my life friendship really seems key. It's difficult living so far away from family but I'm lucky to be able to find a different one in New York.