Like a curious child who’s just discovered the versatility of wondering “Why?” the shadows will keep creeping in until, eventually, you can’t avoid them.
After seeing Boyhood last night, I was reminded of the pleasure of sitting in a dark room with strangers as a wonderful film unfolds on the screen before you, AND that, oddly, I often feel more tuned into the world when I’m tuning out.
Society has built up a problematic narrative where the ideal woman acts in a very particular way: she doesn’t care about superficial things (make-up, fashion), yet always manages to look and feel perfect despite that. Call it Jennifer Lawrence syndrome, if you will.
The statement, style, and song that I’m obsessed with right now.
With some larger life changes on the horizon, and less overall safety in the new, I’ve been gravitating towards self-protection over endless personal divulgence.
Reader Question: How do I navigate writing about my personal life without it affecting my personal life?
Revealing what I have on this site has been INCREDIBLY rewarding—which wasn’t even a consideration when I began. I think that was actually great because it made my voice authentic—I wasn’t trying to make anybody else feel anything.
In his latest WWD column, fashion publisher John Fairfax proclaims that trends are dead. The reality, however, is that fashion trends are nowhere near dead, they just arise from different sources than they once did.
A trip to Brooklyn results in a little sartorial nausea, courtesy of the trying-so-hard-to-be-hip transplants crawling out of every nook and cranny. On the other hand, my native-to-NYC friend doesn’t seem to be trying much at all, and blows them out of the water.
What do Jack Kerouac, sunshine, shades, and Breakfast at Tiffany’s have in common? Not much, until Warby Parker brought them all together and won over my little heart.