Real Life Ain't Real Long

It's been a long while, but I'm back! Please excuse my absence, if it was noticed, after last weeks events I was unable to write. Everyday a new idea planted roots in my pulsing thinker, but as I would sit down the tragically stained images of Boston and West would weigh heavy on my fingers. Even a post honoring those involved in the tragedies seemed wrong.

That was until today, when the concerns of a companion sparked my writing fire. As my froomie (friend roommate) expressed her fear of growing up and moving on, i.e. college graduation, i.e. end of childhood, i.e. death of many, I began to ponder.

Collecting my honorable scroll of paper in three years left little time to observe. There was not time to think of things around me as there was not even time to inhale food. Though one matter painted a picture so bright it broke down the walls of my rice a beans. A college food favorite of mine.

Here is where I might lose some people, sorry if my thoughts do not match yours, but life is tough some times. The following is what I told zee froomie:

"Don't deal [with a job you might like because you can't find one you love] don't even let that be an option. [There are people who settle] don't be them, be the girl who loves what she does because she didn't settle. It is scary, and it is not rewarding for a while. And people will say you are crazy, but the best people are crazy. Remember, success stories don't come from those who had their lives handed to them. They come from those who worked their asses off, took rejections right and left, and stepped on it all with their hard worked for designer heels."

But I did not share this with you to show my encompassing brilliance. You can decide that for yourself. I shared this because it is the truth as I see it. A lot of people thought I was crazy to give up my stable job for life in the unknown. But no one was more skeptic than I. And until I let myself say that where I was wasn't where I wanted to be it was a hard rode. While my wallet might be empty, and my dreams may never come true, I am one of those few people who can say, without a doubt in their mind, that they love what they do.

The choice between stability and a shaky rock seems easy, the choice between money and poverty even more so, but the choice between love and a lie should be the most simple of them all.

Coachella For-rella

Heyy Yoo! Coachella is here, and people are stoked. I am at home, in Austin, not being stoked. But while most will soak up the alcohol kissed sun and rock to night-long jams, I will be lost in deep thought on how this phenom of music festivals has put some spunk in the fashion world.

Tough my being has never struck the grounds of the California festivities, it seems through my research that this thing is much more than we observe. Yes, to many a music festival is a cramped field of dirt with crazy, free loving, deodorant lacking hooligans who live for the beat. But it is so much more.

These festivals have become a way of expression much past the music. They are now known for their festival style photos and hippie happenings. Today alone I Googled (for two hours) photos of Coachella style. And I found some legit stuff. Girls in high waisted shorts, girls in crop tops, girls in no tops. It is like this field of dirt is the most edgy and enticing of all runways, where all the models are dancing away to the beat of a indie band. It is pretty much the most awesome thing the world could have thought.

A place where no one judges, no one cares, but everyone is looking. We are drawn to this pitt of sweat and style and it is ravishing!

Also, is the A silent? If so, why is it there?

Ode to Zoe

Let us start out this fashion blog by naming my girl crush/obsession/wannabe. And though you might think Rachel Zoe is the cliche choice, you are right. But I don't care.

This high class stylist knows what she is doing and anyone who doesn't agree is not a fashion friend. She has taken something most don't give two shizz about and turned it into a blissful bomb of radiating beauty. To have the ability to create a job out of something so simple yet so complex as pairing the perfect sunnies with a dress might just be art in its purest form. So pure I could die.

Yes, I know, I'm an idiot. But I love clothes, and I love her.

Not only did Rachel Zoe put styling on the map in the eyes of a nation who in most cases lacks the concept, she did it at no cost but her own. She is a woman who worked from the bottom up. Fought for something she believed in, and after many years of sweating under her maxi dresses created an empire of gold (or her preferred black).

While many might snuff at the though of fashion and can't understand the reasoning behind spending more than 10 minutes and $10 on an outfit, it is the select few like Rachel Zoe who prove them all wrong. Just think of it this way, deciding to wear an ugly sweater is still deciding to wear something.


A closing note: Rachel Zoe said on her last show "I come from a dad who said I can be the best at anything. So I chose something I loved. And I believe if you work hard enough you can live your dreams."

That's maj.

Impatiences Makes Perfect

Hurr we go. Le blog is being created, but like every journey I embark on, waiting is not an option. Not only does everyone in the world need to know about fashion through this shattered glass, but I need to write it RIGHT NOW. Day after day the thoughts pop in my mind, and day after day I itch at the moment to post a perfect script on an imaginary page... blogging in the air stinks a big one. 

So it has come to this. 45 minutes of blog construction on an never complete page. Did you know there are a million changes one makes to a "Simple Template" page? And in the midst of this all I laugh, because it is everything my life consist of. Constant construction. Constant chaos. Constant fur.

Okay, the fur doesn't fit. But this is the epitome of the blog I am bringing to you, or perhaps to no one but myself. At a recent SXSW panel I had the opportunity to hear the great Man Repeller speak. I do not call her by name because she is a godly blogger, not a person. Kidding, she is a person, but I came to know her as the Man Repeller so that she shall stay.

But at this said panel I learned some things. I learned that blogging has taken over the fashion world. And with eager eyes researched the many a bloggetts (made up word). I then learned there are, for the most part, two kinds of bloggers. The girls who are born into a high profile family and grew up with a gold spoon and Dior booties. And the kind who want everything for less. They have all the tricks and know the best spots to get deals. They are what my grandma deems the shoppers who know how.

Then there is me. The closest to gold I came was getting the food off the floor before the dog, and looking at a sale rack is equivalent to looking at a math problem. I don't get it. Like the best of ideas, it hit me! All I have to do is write about that girl. The one who knows the definition of starving for clothes. Not that "Oh I didn't eat a whole bagel only half so I can get those shoes," but actually not eating for weeks to own a little piece of Marc Jacobs' pie. Yet life takes it's piece too, when I have to show up to Neiman Marcus in a 1992 Pontiac Grand AM because the Jeep is being worked on and my dad just can't seem to part with "The family's only dependable car."

They tell me it is better than walking, but my Tory Burch flats don't agree.

Yes. That is my life. I am a girl of class, in a world of clash. To many this wont matter, but I'm not one to hush it when no one is listening. I will strive to be a new kind of blogger. I am the chic in shambles.