According to dictionary.com, fashion is defined as a prevailing custom or style of dress, etiquette, socializing, ect. But how can you really define fashion? To so many others and myself, you can’t define something that has consumed your whole life in 10 words. It’s like committing a mortal sin in the church of style where Karl Lagerfeld and Anna Wintour are the Pope and High Priestess with Marc Jacobs, Alber Elbaz, Phoebe Philo and the like serving as their royal court. It just cannot be defined. Even for people who claim not to care about fashion or what they wear, those people still have to get dressed everyday and choose an outfit that is suitable for work or a date or just running errands. In the words of Emily Blunt in “The Devil Wears Prada”, “You sold your soul to the devil when you put on your first pair of Jimmy Choo’s…” Fashion cannot be denied and I’d be willing to sell my soul to the devil for a pair of Jimmy Choos any day.
So here it is, my blog. The blog I have been considering writing for the last 5 years and would still be considering if not for a tiny promise to my significant other to try harder…in all aspects of life. There was always just one little thing holding me back: a title. What would I call this magnificent accumulation of daily ponderings I was going to post on the Internet for all of the world, or in my case probably 2 people, to read? The title really is everything. People always say “don’t judge a book by its cover” but I ALWAYS consider the title. No one would read a book called Sitting On My Bed With My Roommate’s Cat…I swear I’m not doing that. Maybe you would read that though, no judgment. Anyways, the title is important and it was important enough to me to make me wait over 2,000 days to start this. That and rejection but that’s another issue altogether. Today though, finally I decided on the title, “Just Luckey I Guess”. No I’m not grammatically challenged, it’s a pun on my name. I guess after handing my ID to enough creepy old bouncers and police officers, who may or may not have been pulling me over for speeding, and receiving every kind of joke in the book back about my name, I felt like it was necessary. Now, I may not know about much *ie the time I insisted on building my Ikea shelves myself, despite my roommate’s begging to wait for her help, and they ended up having one side of the shelves turned the wrong way but there’s one thing I do know, fashion… I know fashion better than I know the back of my hand (be prepared for the occasional Southernish saying every now and then) and I fucking love it. I love everything about it. It’s what gets me through those days when I’m sitting in my apartment and both of my roommates have gone off to their jobs while I stay home applying for jobs. If I need a break all I want is to read one of my favorite blogs or fashion websites or grab a magazine from the mile high stack I have in my room and pretend that it’s me writing amazing articles about what shoes to invest in now or pretend I’m the one who styled the amazing photo shoot on the beach for all the spring/summer lines that was actually taken in the dead of winter. It’s what I want more than anything in the world to be apart of and one day by damn I will *cue dreamy stare out the window….
Okay I think I’ve reached the end. This has been a hell of a long first post but I promise that if you can relate to being unemployed in New York or anywhere in the world for that matter and trying your ass off to get the job of your dreams, you’ll relate to me and I cannot wait to share my thoughts with you.