I've decided overalls and jumpers are the winning-est trend to happen this season. Swathed in denim from ankle to shoulder by day and a stretch v-neck number by night, I've decided there is no reason to pick coordinating pants and tops ever again. I will gladly sit all naked and vulnerable in a public restroom for the comfort and convenience of a one-piece. Cover me up and zip me in. I will be living in this Free People jumpsuit this summer. This cropped, army-green denim number is my favorite tax-return purchase. It's the perfect flea-market perusing (with my trusty Birkenstocks) and cocktail-sipping (with strappy heels) number and I will never take it off. Except to pee. And then I will have to completely remove it and have someone else zip me back in. Volunteers?
It certainly has been a while. I guess I'll just chalk this up to one of the more personal posts, as I usually focus on personal style and the like. I am in New York City with no ticket home. (Except for my best friends wedding, but I'm coming back right after so that doesn't count. I think.) It's exhilarating and scary and everything I've ever wanted in my short existence as a fashion-forward, liberal-minded, 20-something. Gag. I'm terrified. But the kind of terrified that usually ends up being the best decision you ever made kind of terrified. I've only been this scared one other time and it ended up landing me a couple of awards and a spot on CNN. So it's good. I think.
I am in Brooklyn job-searching and apartment hunting with a few of like-minded thrill-seekers. Gag. (I'm giving myself way too much credit. I never seek thrill. I just think you have to do the whole jobless, air-condition-less thing before you "make it" in this soul-devouring city.)
I'm bad at this whole personal post deal. So far I've just used a bunch of cringe-worthy millennial speak I usually make fun of, so I'll be real. I drink a lot of iced lattes with the money saved up from school and write a lot in my Macbook Pro...edit tests, journaling and the like. I'm lucky. Thanks mom and dad for your support. But it is scary not knowing what my next move will be, but I guess that's good. I think.
So here's to going on three weeks in the city. Heres to the Jamaican food I ate on Saturday that will go down as the best meal I've had in the last six months. Here's to the fun, supportive crowd I get to spend my time without AC with. Here's to the Birkenstocks I bought to help feel a part of the bigger picture in the NYC blogger scene. And here's to the unknown.
I can't leave this post without a pinch of fashion-related material, so below is an accurate portrayal of what I've worn while wandering around the city. Sorry, I haven't found a personal photographer yet. Plus I had to leave my camera at home, as my one suitcase had already exceeded the allotted 50 lbs.