As you're reading this,
I'm probably in line at the airport quietly dying inside from how much my overweight bags are going to cost me.
I'm moving to NYC.
And aside from the fact that it was probably one of my dumbest decisions ever to assume that I could "survive" without all of my shoes temporarily, I'm pretty pumped.
I mean- what better way to spend my golden year of life (24 on July 24th! remember how much fun that was??!?) than throwing caution to the wind and moving 960.5 miles away to a place about which I know little more than the fact that it apparently has incredibly inimitable bagels and a knack for poor manners.
In all honesty, though, I've wanted to see more of this city since I was in high school - long before my fashion days - and I figure it's best to get these types of things out of your system before they manifest themselves into psychologically-debilitating symptoms of regret - right? right?
Something about New York has always fascinated me- and I'll be interested to see how I feel about it after living there for more than 7 days. In the middle of fashion week.
And though Wisconsin has, to my surprise, actually been an incredible place to discover and grow my interest/obsession in/with fashion, I realize that NYC will be a whole new proverbial ball game- only with fewer balls and more mildly nasal-voiced women. Stereotype? Prove me wrong.
Will I end up resenting "Fashion" as a whole?
Will the "cut-throatedness (word?)" be too much for me?
Will I ultimately find that homeless, albeit well-accessorized, life is not for me?
Will I finally stop mispronouncing Duane Reade as "Dooh-Anne Reade"?
Stick around, guys.
We've become such good friends already-
I'm sure going to need you now more than ever.
If only just to nod and smile as I "report" back on conventional NYC wisdom
with absolute naïvety.
|dress: thrifted (similar), shoes: Tibi, bag: Icon Shoes|
PS: If you TOO are in NYC, and want to drink caffeine or alcohol with me (pretty please)-hit me up at email@example.com. I need friends.