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| in mourning |
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| feeling blue... |
I am going to be honest, I've been in a mood lately. I have had a serious case of FOMO (fear of missing out) since the onslaught of Fashion Week, because sadly my invitation to all the of the fantastic parties and fabulous fashion shows must have somehow got lost in the mail. My poor psyche has gone through all five stages of grief while I've mourned the loss of any chance of participating in this year's NYFW. Denial and isolation were first when I entered the Nasty Gal NYFW sweepstakes thinking that was my golden ticket to the big show, but when neither I, nor my BFF, were chosen I wanted to bury my big haute hair in my bed and never come out. The anger came next and with every Instagram update or new post from my favorite fashion blogger chronicling their romp through Fashion Week wonderland I grew increasingly more emo and channeled my inner Naomi Campbell by throwing my iPhone in a fit of blind rage. During my bargaining phase I experienced the normal reaction to my feelings of helplessness and vulnerability with a desperate attempt to regain control– attending Fashion's Night Out in San Francisco.
I suited up in my newest Zara attire and strutted my stuff to AB Shoes where my boyfriend and his sister were holding an event celebrating FNO at their Union Square shoe store. I figured if I couldn't take part in the the real thing I could
re-create some of the magic in my neck of the woods, but
this catapulted me into the fourth phase, depression, faster than you can say Maison Martin Margiela. Although I was surrounded by Salvatore Ferragamo and sipping champagne I was NOT in New York and NOT a part of the fashionable phenomena that was taking place on the opposite end of the country. My spirits sank quite low and I completely lost myself in a Rachel Zoe Project marathon which wasn't the best idea considering Skyler Berman had a better wardrobe than I do while in utero.
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| dog days |
After a few days of wallowing, acceptance started to set in and with it came a new wave of inspiration. I channeled my moodiness into a positive outlet for my fashion fury, a complete submersion in the September issue of Vogue and the creation of my very first mood board! I defamed the fashion bible by cutting out my favorite looks from Valentino, Tibi, Dolce and Gabanna, and Mulberry and constructed a sartorial story of my own. Ingenuity bred of pure envy is always a recipe for success! Stay tuned for the fruits of my labor as I will be posting my interpretation of fall's best trends throughout the week.
