There's Something About This Place, It's Almost Heavenly

There's something about an ivory embroidered linen dress and pale yellow culottes that send my mind into a tree-hugging trance. I awoke that morning utterly scatterbrained, clothes sprawled out through every corner of the room, and I, feeling uncharacteristically indecisive about what the hell I would be wearing that day (yes this happens to bloggers too). But just like that, an ivory cap sleeve peeked out from behind some monster of a leather jacket that I had surgically implanted into my closet. I pulled out that dainty, wrinkled dress that had somehow landed in my closet by the hand of a supernatural force, unbeknownst to moi, because I had surely never seen it before. I slipped it over my body and took a peek in my trusted mirror; I felt like an angel. Quite honestly, my standard 90s crop top and matching jean aesthetic tend to shy away from loose dresses decorated with little flowers, but this old thing might just be giving my choker a run for its money. 

And The Door Has Opened!

(Yes, we are still wearing denim) 

Aaaaand the door has opened! We are so excited to announce that we (fashion & ourselves) have agreed to an open relationship! We will now be catering to all of your DIY, lifestyle, and beauty needs. Can someone say time for a little blog page exploring?

Ripped Tee, Whatever

 

Sup, Bellbottoms

 

Christmas of my sophomore year I asked for a pair of bellbottom jeans. Why? I don't know. I had never tried them on, and I wasn't sure how much I even liked them. I proceeded to ask though, because why not? I shuffled them out of a gift box and tried them on instantly, they were snug and perfect. I loved them, but they were way too long (being 5'2 doesn't help this cause). So I sewed the hem myself, because I just needed to wear them that night, nothing else would have been acceptable. Since then I have decided that bellbottoms are only slightly second to high-waisted jeans, but a contest that has not yet concluded. Here I am wearing them alongside a crop top, but believe me they look just as great paired with an oversized sweatshirt...really it's up to you. 

Does This Answer Your Question?

            Over the course of my life I’ve found that there are a few questions in particular that have troubled me. Ironically enough, one of these questions is “how would you describe your style?” I was always stumped, leaving the curious with no answer. Today, ladies (and gentlemen of the inquisitive kind), I have an answer. 

    My style has evolved over time. I’ve been a conformist, and I’ve been a rebel (sort of). I remember being six years old and thinking the white furry t-shirt I had was it, and I promised myself that I would wear nothing other than articles white and furry (note: I have never followed this law). As I got older, my style changed and I wanted to be wearing what everyone else was wearing - we all go through this phase, right? Looking back, it was a weird time; but if it weren’t for this age of conventionality, I would have never known what it means to not abide by my city’s style. 

    Sometimes I find myself looking into my closet and wondering why I love this space so much. Why do I find peace staring at multiple hangers placed underneath some of the wackiest clothes I can get my hands on? Well, it’s much more than that. It is all the different ways I have seen ever-changing fashion through my own unique eyes. Style is interesting, mostly because everyone’s is different. If I were to walk into a department store with any one of you readers, the chances of our eyes spotting completely different garments are extremely high. In a situation like this, I find endless beauty. 

           So when prompted with the question, "how would you describe your style?," I will happily and confidently answer. I have the style of a five-year old who has just been allowed to dress herself for the first time. This is not because I instinctively sway towards overalls, peter-pan collars, and baby-doll dresses; this is because I see undying possibilities when I look into my closet, as if I am looking at it with a fresh pair of eyes. In the past couple years, more often than not, I have found myself jumping out of bed to visit my closet in the morning. She is my best friend, mostly because she feeds my individuality. She does not feed me because I get dressed in robot motions (hungry in this potent world of fashion) but because I allow myself to be open to these undying possibilities. For the most part, I've realized that it's increasingly okay to wear my mothers 90s pantsuit, paired with my 12 year old brother's socks, and alongside 10 lb. monster boots (and if it isn't, I really don't care). Understandably I see limits in the world, but I see no limits in my closet. Formulating and perfecting my personal style has brought out my inner child, and a five-year old Emma is here to stay. 

To The Nonbelievers...

        They say to aspire to be a fashion designer is unrealistic, but I say, "Do you wear clothes?" It's funny because I don't think anyone who has ever told me that working in the fashion industry is too far fetched, was naked. Wait, let me think? Yeah, I didn't think so. As they stand in front of me and tell me how I won't ever find a job in an industry they've clearly invested, for some reason, I'm not too convinced.

  No matter how many people criticize the fashion industry they have all invested in it at some point, making it the multibillion dollar business that it is. Yes it is a world full of vanity, and I can recognize that but in my long career as a fashion crazed female, I've learned a thing or two. I've learned that it takes a certain kind of creature to admire the indecisive, nit-picky nature of the fashion designer; not everyone has the patience to sit around and talk about the differences between "egg shell" and "off-white", but if you do then you're definitely one of the few who was made for this. I've learned that there are many subcategories under the title consumer; wealthy, not so wealthy but still spend like they are, the savers, the splurges, those who "don't care" but still invest, and those who pretend not to care. And as a personal message to the 50 year old men out there who" don't care", I as an 18 year old girl with fairly descent eyesight (18/20)  care that you keep investing in the clothing you'd rather not buy.

  I have known clothing to be two things, if nothing more. Clothing 1. Covers the bare skin on our backs and 2. Gives us something to work for. If ever I feel complacent with my style, all I have to do is take a stroll down 5 Ave. Watching the "clackers" as they were labeled in The Devil Wears Prada, stomp up and down the streets in their five inch heals, dawning the freshly pressed Yves Saint Laurent coats and their JCrew pixie pants snaps me right back to fashion reality. In the fashion world, there is no such thing as finished; it is always changing.

  So thank you to the shopaholics for creating a steady job for me as an aspiring designer. Thank you to the nonbelievers for investing anyways (even if it was to avoid a streaking fine). Lastly, thank you to those who are smart enough to know that the fashion industry is undying, and can recognize that a job as a doctor might be more steady, but one in fashion is just way more fun.

What's Yours Is Mine, Right?

 I love finding new sources of inspiration for my everyday dress-up routine. Oddly enough, I absolutley adore going into my family members closets and taking a peek at whatever they have in there. Because what's mine is yours and what's yours is mine, right? This day I was guilty of borrowing an older cousins Topman collared shirt...who knows where I'll hit next.