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. 

Birkenstocks Have Feelings Too You Know

I am going to be completely honest when I say that Birkenstocks were nothing but a foreign shoe to me until my person (@Sofi) sported a pair. It wasn't long before I fell head over heels in love with the most hideous potato sack that should ever find itself confining my toes. I like to think that Birkenstocks are an addiction, and one that my great aunt hit long before I ever could. There's something about these bad boys that make me feel some sort of way, whether its channeling my inner retirement age or quite the opposite. About a month ago I was heavily confused as to why some of my favorite bloggers had approximately 10+ pairs, but right now I wouldn't have it any other way.

An Art Piece A Day Keeps The Doctor Away

I like to make art every morning, and it hurts to miss a day...but my art is not like your art and I guess that's what makes it my art. I prefer to consider myself the canvas and none other than my own closet the tool box. I felt my self labeled "Frankenstein-I own the world booties" would look rather delightful paired with mix-matched patterns (do you blame me?) I hope you love today's art piece just as much as I do.

There is one thing that you and I have in common yet we do that thing so differently. For some, getting dressed in the morning is a drag, for others, it's simply an obligation, for me it's an opportunity to express myself. If the pink on pink wasn't obvious enough, I felt particularly girly today, or as Emma called it "blush princess-ey". Just like every little girls dream, throwing on all pink I owned was nothing sort of riveting. I hope this outfit brings back memories of your childhood dress up days, just as it did me.

PAMM

 

All Boyfriend Everything

Wide hips, a saggy ass, and big thighs; all the things us women have proudly sported from the moment we saw Katie Holmes casually strutting through the streets of NYC in Tom Cruise's jeans in 2009. It wasn't long after that stores like Zara and H&M became flooded with all things "boyfriend": shorts, pants, and even watches were commonplace on the streets of fashion capitals around the world. To this day it is widely acceptable, and some would go as far as to say trendy, to throw on your baggiest pair of boyfriend jeans, drape an oversized jacket over your shoulders, and post a picture on Instagram with the hashtag "OOTD"; maybe everyone won't love the style, but you know it's only a matter of time before they do. It wasn't 'til the other day when I found myself rummaging through dad's closet that I began to question this terribly unflattering trend. Could it be the underlying desire to have a relationship like the one Katie and Tom once had manifesting itself in my wardrobe? Or the desire to, at least, make it look like you did? Or maybe it was just an attempt to make the walk of shame look fashionable. Shortly thereafter it dawned on me: as women all over the world hunt relentlessly to obtain the much sought after Parisian style, we have found that overalls, white button downs, and a pair of lace-up stilettos do just that! All in all, after the five year (and going strong) companionship I have shared with my boyfriend jeans I have realized that they are about as reliable as any boyfriend can get; they're pretty simple in their demeanor, just a little damaged, and never too suffocating. 

I'm Lovin' This Blog...

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Sneaking In A Good Read At Prom

When I say I dreaded going to prom, it is not in the slightest bit exaggerated. The morning of prom I woke up and shrugged in realization that today was the day I would have to endure about 10 hours of cheesy pictures, long pauses between good songs, and awkward encounters with teachers. Little did I know, I would soon become one of those graduated girls who drool every time the word prom is mentioned. 

This is a picture of my date and I that I posted  the morning after prom in which the caption read "Prom is da bomb." And for the record, it really is. 

Flannels Are Always A Good Idea

I type this as I stare into my closet, which proudly holds my 10 flannels (and counting). I can't remember the first time I tried out this trend, and quite honestly I don't want to remember a world where this isn't relevant in every single form...are flannels acceptable over a wedding dress? (I ask only for future me). 

This Is Called Nesting. Right?

As Emma previously stated, I will soon be embarking on a crazy new chapter of my life in the big city. Just this afternoon I ordered all my dorm furniture which just made this whole college thing all too real. A few months ago, while on a school trip to the city, I decided I would venture off and take in the city as my future home.

This is me stopping to pose in front of my future alma mater. 

My mom used to love talking about the whole process about nesting when she was pregnant. In a way , I guess thats what I spent my day doing as I strutted down the streets in Times Square. This is what nesting looks like for me. 

Pretty fab, huh? 

Kind Of A Denim Fanatic (in case you haven't noticed)

I stand before you in these photos, not only in front of the school my person (@ Sofi Ayala) will be attending this upcoming fall...but somewhere I could possibly maybe perhaps be heading off to in a years time (scary, I know). Being the first school I visited out of three, FIT left me a bit stunned and quite honestly petrified, but after a couple months of pure contemplation you're still a front runner babe and possibly maybe perhaps I'll catch you later?

I Felt Like A Hippie On This Particular Day

"What the hell are you wearing?" Ah, the question I have so commonly been faced with throughout the past few year. After several weeks of trying to come up with a clever answer to that question- because witty responses only occur to me once it’s already too late- I had a revelation. I was wearing "whatever the hell I wanted to wear." Though I often find myself trying to imitate the unique styles of my favorite fashion bloggers and fashion icons, I find that getting dressed in the morning never goes as planned. The walls that I most often find myself hit are most commonly known as over-anticipation and miscalculation. I often try to pick out my outfits in advance, partly because mornings can be quite hectic for me, but mainly because I can never get enough of combining previously worn articles of clothing to form new and fresh outfits. While one evening I may be feeling rather dainty and feminine, the outfit I pick out that night will most certainly not match my rebellious and punk mood the following morning. So basically after about 13 years of dressing myself "however the hell I wanted"-13 because my mother had difficulty giving me creative freedom with my own appearance at the age of 4- I have gained enough confidence in my wardrobe to know that I dress how I feel. If one day I feel like parading through the streets yelling "love, not war" you most definitely better believe I’ll be sporting my white crochet, floor-length dress with small daisies laced throughout my waist-length braid. While on other days- usually at a particular time of the month- my attitude will most probably manifest itself in my black skinny jeans and leather jacket adorned with silver chains. In other words, next time I am asked "what the hell I am wearing", the brilliant interviewer can expect an answer such as "peace" or "PMS" (LOL jk)

A Day Well Spent In A Little Cotton Dress