The river is motion, turmoil, rage. As the river flows, it wonders what it would be like to be so still, to take a breath, to rest. But the rock will always wonder what lies around the bend in the stream.– Kekla Magoon I wore this Monday to host the debut of Story Story Late-Night (the black sheep of the storytelling family) finding it just hours before at Lux. It’s somehow slutty and demure at the same time—with a low lace front and naked back, bottomed by four boner-killing tiers of delicate gray ruffles. Positively shameless. It’s a delightful contradiction. As are we all. vintage 1980s Jessica McClintock lace & silk gray ruffle dress, $16.99, Lux Fashion Lounge | Nine West gray snakeskin heels $3.95 all leather upper; made In Brazil, ReStyle thrift store Cheep! Advertisements
It’s pitch day at the ad agency. For a tire company. I wear the brand colors, and represent. Word up. vintage Liz Claiborne black & rose print silk jacket, $11.99 at 20% off, Lux Fashion Lounge | tagless black sheen tank, $1.99, ReStyle thrift store | Vivienne Westwood red skirt, $20, Lux Fashion Lounge | Steve Madden red leather kitten heels, $7, ReStyle thrift store Cheep!
Peggy Olson of Mad Men is my career idol. From awkward as hell to bad ass as fuck. OK—still and always—an unnerving mix of them both. The Limited silk vest – $4, The Gold Mine thrift store (Sun Valley) | Alcantara fake suede orange skirt – $19.99 Idaho Youth Ranch thrift store, vintage 1970s | Chia orange leather Victorian bomber jacket on chair – $7.99 Serendipity Boutique vintage 1980s | Kate Spade nude wedges with gold studded bow – $70, ROSS Dress for Less in Portland (for my BFFs wedding, originally $300) Cheep!
I realize I’m such a privileged white lady asshole, co-opting first a veteran’s rallying cry and then a Beyonce anthem about slavery and its consequences to talk about fashion, and like, my career and stuff. But ever since I decided to get a real job, right after I got my $8,000 self-employed tax bill, I’ve had that song stuck in my head… “Freedom! Freedom! I can’t move. Freedom, cut me loose. Singing freedom! Freedom! Where are you? Cause I need freedom too. I break chains all by myself. Won’t let my freedom rot in hell. I’ma keep running cause a winner don’t quit on themselves.” A real job. Talk about sweet, sweet lemonade after lemons upon lemons for years upon years. People talk about freedom. But freedom isn’t free. You have to fight for it every single fucking day. And that version of freedom became a tiny little island of hell, for me alone, because I was always afraid and overwhelmed. And always somehow failing in some baffling business-y way. And surviving by the skin of my teeth. I …