I’ve been a fashion blogger for over a decade. Let that settle in for a minute: I started this in my early twenties and now I am fast approaching my mid-thirties. I started my blog when blogging was this strange hobby that some people took upon themselves to post on the internet. I never propelled to crazy fame like some of the other bloggers (the majority of which I believe have lost their creative way in the shiny land of fame and fortune), and while my own formula for this blog did change over time because It was at some point intoxicating to get attention, comments, likes, and invites to things, I eventually pumped the brakes when I felt I was drifting from my authentic self. I just go too caught up and I frankly did not like the person I was, glued to my phone constantly, playing a game that fed my own anxiety and insecurities. I keep it up now for me; I do this on my free time, and take up my husband’s time (and occasionally my sweet mom) by asking him to take photos of me.
I was an Art Director in advertising back when I started this blog on blogspot. My career was just starting out, I was flat broke, a new college graduate, and at that point aspiring to own lots of pretty things and document my acquiring and wearing those things. I was wrapped up in creating my brand and I was wanting to do so with a mix of high and low, sticking close my roots as someone who was definitely not born with money but worked, clawed, cried, fought, and hustled to make a good living now — by the way, thank you family and mentors! I could not do it alone, ever, never.
Back then I didn’t post to my blog because I thought it would ever bring me press (even though it has!), or job opportunities with famous people and brands (oh boy, that too!), or for the free goods that once came flowing in like a joke (it was insane!). I always posted for me. Even today, I look at some of my past posts and outfits and cringe, but also love so many other posts that show me that in some dark periods where I wasn’t even close to my own biggest fan (too busy comparing myself to others) I found in hindsight that I am not bad at all. That what I have right here is a living breathing autobiography of me to date. Yes, it’s got a superficial wrapper of consumerism around it, but I still firmly believe you can be frivolous and substantial at the same time. My posts are also interwoven with stories of my life—the deep seeded stuff at the center of me and my brain that shape the fluffy top decisions—and I’ve shared select stories openly in the hopes of connecting with someone going through the same good, bad, ugly, or the nothing.
I keep this up now because I want to document myself for my own vanity I guess, too. But it’d be remiss if I didn’t admit that this decade long focus on a creative activity is ultimately good for me as a designer, an artist, and a professional in the creative industry. Because I know my point of view as a creative and that only came with time and growing my confidence by sharing my thoughts openly with everyone.
So a decade later my formula hasn’t really changed much; I will wear my own clothes, that I bought with my hard owned money, and I will be honest and open when something happens to be free or I make a mistake. I’ll also share stories too, because the most rewarding aspect of this project has been the interaction with people relating to me over time. You, the person who is spending your free time reading this, is too without an agenda. And I think it’s pretty wild for me to find an audience of strangers that ultimately cares about reading about me, a person with shared interests, and can also relate to the silly mistakes in the pursuit of my stylish life.
Acne Studios top, skirt
Saint Laurent sunglasses