Yes, I grew up dreaming about this career path…but fashion is fantastical when you’re 13—the reality is less idyllic.
I was beginning to feel like I would never end up in a place that I truly wanted to be in, and then the universe threw me a big shiny bone.
Two black models and one Asian in a showing of 54 looks—so, essentially, a sea of white women. Is that wired to the wider world? Not so much.
It’s about having fun with fashion again, and what that represents for my bigger picture—daring to try new things, to mess up, to be a little squishy rather than slick.
I’ve worn it so much over the last few years that it is pilling and has a hole in the back—shabby and really not at all chic. But despite how dull it sounds, its origin story is a little unusual.
Consider this my official to plea to have the appeal of The Victoria’s Secret Show unpacked for me, preferably via a detailed PowerPoint presentation created by a non-sexually-fantasizing male or female.
I don’t think my tiny little defense of KJ is proverbially wiping her tears late at night—I doubt she’s even crying. It’s more about getting people to rethink WHY they get so riled up by some lithe young woman who’s totally killing it.
A rebuttal to The Harvard Lampoon Editor’s recent silly piece about women reaching “peak frump.”
The onslaught of so-called news now delivered during fashion week regarding each show, celeb sighting, and inevitable blogger collaboration entirely drowns itself out, rendering all of it tired, dull, and a waste of my time.