I’m not a big believer in idolatry, especially when it comes to the sphere of fashion. Many people are raised on platforms that have epic connotations–as if the ability to pair the right shirt with the right pant is a holy faculty given to the mere few.
Assorted grumblings about the terrible 2-0's.
The more you try on different hats, the easier it is to pinpoint what you like and don’t like, who you really are beyond the mirror.
Ever since the publication of The Feminine Mystique, American women have been haunted by the problem of more.
I realize that I can’t fault my favorite virtual venues for trying to cash in a bit on their popularity—after all making it in America is not as dreamy as we’d once hoped.
In a world where pregnancy expectations have reached Kim-Kardashian-outfit-with-Victoria’s-Secret-Angel-body heights, it’s refreshing to get a dose of reality that still assures you don’t have to lose your cool whilst pregnant.
We just couldn’t help ourselves.
Fashion has become much less about fun and whimsy, and more about the perfect façade.
“Eat a bagel and don’t cry about it.”