July 17, 2023
My Very own Love Story
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Isn’t it fabulous that we know each other so well already? I haven’t even told you about my dreams yet.
Do you remember falling in love?
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I do.
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Not so much the entire day, but I can relive the very instant it happened.
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Do you remember the first thing that caught your eye? How you knew it was meant to be?
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I don’t.
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It could have been the colors; her ominous red illumination, or the piercing gaze that manipulated me into thinking she loved me first. Her touch felt waxed and polished against mine. Perhaps it was simpler than that. Quite possibly was it her pages; so magnificent they were practically turning themselves with my not so delicate fingers.
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My heart leapt out of my zip-up sweatshirt and out the window when I fell madly in love with a Vogue magazine, and every issue thereafter.
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The love story takes place three March’s ago when I was boutique hopping with my grandmothers. Frustrated from yet another pair of super cute old lady pants that would have looked amazing if not for strange measurements in the crotch area, I took a break. Oh, my poor future crotch!
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I decided to play the sitting judgmental friend in the dressing room montage; awaiting to see which cheetah print blouse Grams would try on next. When I heard one of my grandmothers’ holler for a third size, my eyes started to wander around in search of entertainment to play with.
What did I find but the Billie Eilish Vogue sandwiched between Chloe and Halle on the cover of Cosmopolitan’s “The Sister’s Issue” and a still sealed Martha Stewart holding a wooden basket of kale and herbs on the cover of Martha Stewart Living? I had never listened to Ms. Eilish before– apart from the radio hits– for all I could tell you is that when Ego Nwodim referred to her as “William Eyelash” I thought it was one of the funniest things ever.
Opening the inside cover, I was struck with a face full of Billie staring down a toy army man. After was Kristen Stewart amidst her comeback era modeling for Chanel, setting no such precedent for the #OfCourseAHorse Gucci campaign on the next page. Who doesn’t love Robert Pattinson as the face for the “I’m Your Man” Dior fragrance or Ralph Lauren himself coming through the clouds like Mufasa to box over an airplane?
The articles were beautiful. From the honesty and heartbreak Lily King portrays in “Love Lines” to Jane Fonda’s powerful voice coming through in Jonathan Van Meter’s “Force of Nature,” I was fascinated.
The entire magazine was one big fashion photo essay; even the advertisements held such a strong elegance I felt the need to carefully run my hand over each page.
Alexander McQueen fashion house designer Sarah Burton’s “The New Edwardian” was particularly thought-provoking. It suddenly occurred to me that I had been encircled by fashion my entire life but never realized or accepted it. I grew up in two different colored Crocs and a Spider-man costume. Middle school never saw a day without stripes and stars, and do I even have to mention high school hair? I referred to my hairdo as ‘The Tracy Turnblad.”
You picture that.
Not a single piece of clothing do I regret; I had to start somewhere! At the time, I was very content with my style.
The typical outfit was shorts way past my knee, an oversized t-shirt with a cartoon mustache or Despicable Me minion (or both), two different color Crocs (still my favorite franchise), and my haircut hovering over my shoulders with the ends swung up, pointing to my ears. The only downside to growing up a ‘tomboy’ was my mother giving away all of her fabulous clothing she saved for her daughter because said daughter would rather wear a collared shirt and wooden bowtie than sequence.
Somehow that changed when my go-to I.D. was fake and go-to bra size was D. The first dress I wanted to wear was a replica of Elsa’s powerful crystal-blue gown in Frozen. My mother, amazing as she is, secretly began taking my measurements and had one made for me as a birthday present, thrilled at the idea of me in a dress.
As I flipped through the pages, I was mesmerized by incredible styles of patterns and colors in an arrangement I’d never seen. Then I looked around at the boutique and started spewing thoughts. Practicing. I pictured my closet and was ready to smoke it out and start over.
I purchased a 15-month subscription to Vogue that night.
I also purchased a 12-month subscription to Martha Stewart Living.
Every month since, I receive a new prized possession in the mail. I keep my magazines organized on a shelf and that’s the only disruption I’ll allow to the mess. The articles have a unique way of being influential while the photography makes my jaw drop. Learning about fashion in the modern world brought a whole new perspective to everything. Reading the magazine went from a guilty pleasure to that crush you can’t stop talking about even though everyone is giving “shut up” eyes.
Along with fashion, I fell in love with the journalistic writing and desired a possible career direction for the first time. Working for my college paper has been my only experience with reporting so far. I took it for granted, but I loved every minute of it.
Journalism is another reason moving back to New York was crucial.
We’ve got all the big guys; The New York Times, Vogue, New York Post, Simon & Schuster, Elle, Playbill, Dow Jones, and while those are aiming big, that’s my dream, and someone once told me it was important to dream big.
As long as we’re sharing dreams, I’ll be specific. I want to learn from the top. Anna Wintour is a self-made woman; the Editor-in-Chief of Vogue. Since the moment I saw the documentary film about the making of Vogue’s 840-page September issue, I wanted to be Anna Wintour’s personal assistant. Administrative tasks are my absolute favorite kind of task, plus I would learn everything there is to know about fashion and running a major magazine.
Furthermore, there is simply no other habitat for me than the city. There are delis, the option and encouragement to not drive, asshole pedestrians, stuffy Q trains, 24-hour corner stores, 99¢ pizza but $1.50 Dr. Pepper, and most importantly; fast pace. People know how to keep the fuck up here. I went to Florida once and I promise that whole state is in slow motion.
I became obsessed with analyzing the outfits of everyone on the train with me, in passing, in elevators, uniforms, office clothes, casual wear, and moreover, I would reminisce on the evolution of it all through my lifetime. It led to the most wonderful ideas.
Ultimately, that’s how I became so Fabulous and Vain™.