fashion

After getting my men out the door this morning I immediately made a run for the television in order to immerse myself in all things Bravo and its Bravolebrities. In particular my fav stylist Rachel Zoe. After an hour of watching my girl in her long pants, fur jackets, giant accessories, and very high shoes, I was prompted to write about a subject barely touched on in my literary adventure. Running to my closet to recycle my tired old wardrobe, I ran my fingers over my own collection of wide legged pants,vintage fur jackets, high shoes and opted for a fun yet very un-Zoe like ensemble. Seeing the plethora of clothing that runs throughout the Zoe empire I am inspired to look at my old wardrobe in a new light. Old jackets become new again with some hot pink skinny cords. Vintage metal flower pins find a sunny perch on my collars and my "funeral" shoes now look fresh with the hot pink skinnies. Okay men, I'm sure at this point you have lost interest and clicked back to your manly cyber browse, but hey, I'm a girl and sometimes what you get is girly stuff. As a teen my wanderlust would never quite go away, hating the "burgh" as much as I did. This led to my big dreams of running off to Paris and New York City in order to conquer the fashion world. Well, I did get to Paris, as a tourist and upon sitting on the steps of my coveted Chanel (after hours) I managed to set off the screeching burglar alarm. My traveling partner and I quickly made a mad dash down the rue St. Honore and that was the end of my Parisian fashion career. Upon entering Kent State University's esteemed fashion program, I quickly realized by the end of my second year that maybe there were other plans for me. Sitting at that awful industrial sewing machine that I swear moved faster than light speed ended with me in tears. My roommate and college bestie would sit at her machine and pump out garment after garment while I struggled to thread the damn needle. Fashion illustration was also another bump in my stylish career. I've always been somewhat adept in the drawing and painting department, but fashion illustration I could never quite master. My models always looked deathly with giant lobster claws for hands. Of course the bestie never had a problem with this either. Her sketches were beautiful and fluid with all perfect hands. Ugh. Discouragement at its finest. Maybe a different path WAS inevitable. After trying to channel my creative energies into majors that were just, well, dry, I gave up alltogether. Soooo many years later I have found my niche. I have learned to redirect that manic creative energy into my other pop culture passion, vintage home decor. Surrounding myself with color and texture, size, shape and scale and of course little bits of history has renewed my sense of self. Finding my true path has been one of my greatest rewards and hey, I still get to shop for a living. Goodnight world.