I know, I know. You stumbled upon this blog and you're thinking, "Ugh, not another riff on Sex and The City? I thought that phase ended after the movie came out. This girl must sip cosmos, think she's a Carrie, Charlotte, Miranda or Samantha and be super lame." Well, yes and no. I haven't had a cosmo in like 6 years, I would rather eat than buy shoes and I know that Carrie Bradshaw had to have supported her writing by moonlighting as a hooker in oder to afford a rent controlled spot on the Upper East Side with enough closet space to hold her Manolos, Choos, Louboutins and racks of pret-a-porter--writing doesn't pay THAT well future journalists until it does. But, in all fairness I have been called a Carrie since college because I'm a natural born communicator who can spot a fake LV bag from a mile away and often refers to shoes by their name not the brand, as in "Those are tributes right?" "No, they're YSL." "I know. But they're YSL Tribute pumps. I haven't seen that color, they're good." I also LOVE love and labels and support my writing with a steady part time mall gig to keep my closet full of brands I couldn't afford right now without a discount. Aside from those very surface level similarities, I am nothing like your average SATC lover....well I was until I wasn't.
|College "It" Girl days captured in 225 Magazine|
After graduating from college with a degree in Textiles and Apparel Merchandising--that's fashion merchandising fyi--I left Louisiana for Atlanta with big dreams of finding the perfect job and man. Cut to about three months in and I was working at the mall, living with my mom and miserable because I didn't have any friends--as a reformed party girl with the gift of gab, friends were/are my life blood. I tried moving back to Louisiana to relive my glory days pre-degree only to find that I'd grown to accustomed to the big city way of life, and Panera Bread, to ever call NOLA home again and moved back to ATL with the intention of eventually working my way to New York. Fast forward a bit again and I was working NY fashion week as an intern, kicking ass and making great connections, then my plan to move flopped because I was too scared of my own greatness to take a risk and leave this mediocre life behind. That decision to stay was the best and worst decision I ever made. Best, because I met the love of my life the New Year's Eve after I decided to stay and worst because despite making great strides in Atlanta and moving from blogger to writer and seeing my name in print I'm still exactly where I was in 2007 when I moved here, working in the mall. After two years and 8 months in the most loving, beautiful and perfect relationship ever, me and my Mr Big hit a road bump that left me broken, alone and pining for the one person that I know is destined to be a part of my life forever....we'll save that story for another day.
|Hanging with Candace Bushnell and LohSki at the W Buckhead|
My Big break up led me here, after much soul searching and a self help book or two, starting a blog based on a dream I had--I feel like that's something Prince would say--that marries my love of fashion and all things pop culture with my new found spirituality. Yes, I drank the Kool-Aid so to speak but I'm not at all cult like. I mix wisdom from my teachers Gabrielle Bernstein and Marianne Williamson with wise words from everyone from Russell Simmons, Jay Z, Iyanla Vanzant, the Dalai Lama, Deepak Chopra and my spiritual running buddies that include the baddest psychic ATL or San Diego has ever seen and a cray, dancer who sees 11:11 as mucha as I do. I also remix the vapid, shallow, anti-feminist comings and goings of Carrie and her crew to fit my daily struggles as a writer, reluctant stylist and student and teacher of A Course in Miracles. Yes, I drink green juice and try to squeeze in a round of sun salutations between my morning meditations and getting dressed. Yes, I carry amethyst and The Alchemist in my Alexander Wang Coco Duffel. Yes, I accessorize with a mala and BCBG pumps. Oh and don't forget I bump Jay Z while catching up on Deepak's tweets, but none of that means anything. Life is all about balance, and that's what this is all about. I can shop like Carrie, meditate with monks, drink red wine while I detox, gather together a power posee of spiritual gangstas and call in all kinds of amazing miracles all while outing my ego and using the F word, both of them, because I am not a body with a spirit, I am a spiritual being in a body and therefore I am inherently spiritual. Word to your mother!