I'd like to take a moment of silence in saying au revoir to my blog hiatus/hibernation these past couple of weeks--okay months. So, you know that feeling you get when you awkwardly & agonizingly have to unravel a limitless span of events with an old friend and spontaneously consolidate it into a 5 minute convo? And you internally abandon hope and result in lackadaisically responding with "Yeah... I've been busy" to sum things up in a nutshell. That's me right now. But I promise, I'll try and do it in a more---creative sort of way. OR I can just list it:
1.) My days of vicariously living through Elle Woods during her sorority days have officially ended. I may not have a secret, snappy sorority handshake with my uptight professor in a hair salon but I do have some interesting hand-signs that require a lot of mental processing. In short: I'm in Kappa Kappa Gamma!
2.) I am interning at Chanel as a boutique intern! (God knows how I landed that). The result?
Let's just say that black has hauntingly crept through my wardrobe and has poisoned my once flamboyant, garden-like floral pieces reminiscent of my California Girl lifestyle. (I'll elaborate more on that soon) Oh, and my first ever Chanel purchase was a Rose Cache nude nail polish! Hey--I'm a college student living in NY...a $60,000 exotic alligator flap bag is (WAY) out of the question. But I did happen to try on a $16,000 necklace from the Chanel Dallas show. Those 30 seconds of pretending it belonged to me were reminiscent of a Great Gatsby moment.
3.) Time to re-watch Misfits to refresh my british terminology (flats, crisps, twat...) and take a crash-course on talking in a British accent. Oh, and ABC Family's Halloween marathons of its perennial Harry Potter showings are a must. Even Hermione would be pleased. But why all of this training? Because I am going to L-O-N-D-O-N! I'm a Europe virgin and this conversion to pounds will be the death of me---and my wallet. As if my wallet wasn't already malnourished.
So while my thoughts are pervasively ping-ponging across my scattered mind to compensate for my hiatus, I'll do my best to focus on one topic like the 8-year old that I am. The topic of how I've joined the dark side--literally. The transformation of my style has gone from black to white (pun intended). For all you brave souls that will volunteer as tribute in veering back to my 2012 "fashion" style, mentally prepare yourselves. DISCLAIMER: involuntary flinching and cringing will most likely occur. It's as if a sewing machine threw up a hybrid of Jeremy Scott and Susie Bubble's outfits but 10000x less cool. My hardcore California girl status that I confidently stamped onto every social media platform profile has since been erased along with my obsession over pattern-mixing and excessive color.
Listen, I'm still a California at heart. (In-n-out > Shake Shack. Summer weather year-round > the Arctic tundra during winters.) But I now face that excruciating feeling all of us fashionistas hate and fear most: I have nothing to wear and I can't afford to wear what I really want! Yes. It is this exact dilemma that I now face as I'm becoming gradually acclimated to a--dare I say--New York style.
So what is said "New York style"? Let me put it in Kelly definitions:
New York Style noun \ˈnü (yôrk) (stl)
1. A "Vogue-approved" uniform of clothing most likely in black, white and rarely beige in classic yet modern silhouettes.
2. The Mary Kate & Ashley Olsen effect; "Did you see her black sunglasses and long black turtleneck sweater? So Olsen."
More words related to New York Style:
My favoritism towards simple and classic silhouettes with a modern twist (vis-à-vis a crisp white oxford shirt with mesh detailing) has pervaded my closet. It no longer seems as if my black pieces are alien to the arrogant exaggeration of prints and color in my armoire. Instead, these said pieces seem more like pariahs of my existent style. These were once my fabric friends but I've since gone through a tabula rasa of style. A clean slate. Perhaps one involving a classic Acne shirt with asymmetrical cutting. Sorry H&M and Forever 21.