Hi. My name is Jess.I'm 25, petite, and outspoken. Seriously, my opinions are inversely correlated with my size. I've got a love for hockey that just won't quit, I wear pink on Fridays (and most days in between), and I'm a sucker for a tequila-based cocktail (hey, we've all got our weaknesses. I like to think mine just happen to be adaptive). I'm almost through my masters degree- by the grace of God, luck, and Starbucks- I have a job I love, and I live in NYC. Life is good! But, um...There's a problem.
I *have* a problem.
My name is Jess, and I am addicted to fashion.
It is BAD, you guys. You know that glazed-over look on your boyfriend's face every Sunday at kickoff? That's me when I find out Celine has produced a new "It" bag (presumably out of lucid dreams and pixie dust...and maybe some calfskin leather). During New York Fashion Week, oh God, I'm a lost cause.
If Lucky Magazine: the Post-Grad Years were a thing/person, her name would be Jess, and she would basically live in motorcycle booties.
But I digress...
To me, fashion does the impossible. It transforms me. It's like, when you were growing up and could never quite decide which Spice Girl you wanted to be. Fashion means YOU NEVER HAVE TO CHOOSE. When ten-year old me figured this out...oh man. Mind BLOWN. This week alone, I've already been Baby, Sporty, and Posh (I could never quite pull off Scary, and I save Sexy for special occasions. Like New Year's, my birthday, Halloween, and those "run-ins" with exes that are *absolutely* never planned. Ahem.).
The right clothes, accessories, colors tell the world a story. Today, my story is that I ate a LOT yesterday, went walking around the mall today, and it's possible that I haven't washed my hair (slouchy sweater, leggings, booties, and a topknot. Don't judge.). Yesterday, my story was "hi, my name is Zooey Deschanel, nice to meet you" (sparkly, empire-waisted A-line dress with ballet flats. 'Nuf said.). I could have done a freakin' curtsy and it would have felt right.
My point is this: I LOVED pretending when I was little. I loved figuring out how the personalities I pretended to be felt, what made them tick. I got a kick out of being in people's heads because, let's be honest, I was a curious and nosy kid. Through fashion, I'm able to keep pretending. Children totally have it right- you don't wake up feeling the same every morning, so why shouldn't the way you look reflect that?
I *have* a problem.
My name is Jess, and I am addicted to fashion.
It is BAD, you guys. You know that glazed-over look on your boyfriend's face every Sunday at kickoff? That's me when I find out Celine has produced a new "It" bag (presumably out of lucid dreams and pixie dust...and maybe some calfskin leather). During New York Fashion Week, oh God, I'm a lost cause.
If Lucky Magazine: the Post-Grad Years were a thing/person, her name would be Jess, and she would basically live in motorcycle booties.
But I digress...
To me, fashion does the impossible. It transforms me. It's like, when you were growing up and could never quite decide which Spice Girl you wanted to be. Fashion means YOU NEVER HAVE TO CHOOSE. When ten-year old me figured this out...oh man. Mind BLOWN. This week alone, I've already been Baby, Sporty, and Posh (I could never quite pull off Scary, and I save Sexy for special occasions. Like New Year's, my birthday, Halloween, and those "run-ins" with exes that are *absolutely* never planned. Ahem.).
The right clothes, accessories, colors tell the world a story. Today, my story is that I ate a LOT yesterday, went walking around the mall today, and it's possible that I haven't washed my hair (slouchy sweater, leggings, booties, and a topknot. Don't judge.). Yesterday, my story was "hi, my name is Zooey Deschanel, nice to meet you" (sparkly, empire-waisted A-line dress with ballet flats. 'Nuf said.). I could have done a freakin' curtsy and it would have felt right.
My point is this: I LOVED pretending when I was little. I loved figuring out how the personalities I pretended to be felt, what made them tick. I got a kick out of being in people's heads because, let's be honest, I was a curious and nosy kid. Through fashion, I'm able to keep pretending. Children totally have it right- you don't wake up feeling the same every morning, so why shouldn't the way you look reflect that?
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| The aforementioned "Zooey" dress. |
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