Onto The Next

It's January 5th and I never got around to writing a New Year's post. But, I figure the 2015 #bestyearyet posts will be relevant until at least mid-February so we're good. Plus, I've written one every year I've had this blog so at this point it's basically a tradition and I feel weirdly obligated to write something. 

So, here we go...2015.

But first: I have a lot of thoughts. And I've been lost in mental ramblings in far too many showers (sorry, drought) lately that I think it's finally time to share. 

Truth is...a big part of me feels like this blog is over. I've been feeling this way for a while, thinking that maybe it's finally time to start a new chapter, a new project, and say goodbye to this little website. Tie a pretty bow on it and send it to internet heaven where it'll find comfort next to my three inappropriate/embarrassing AIM screen names, Oregon Trail high score (no dysentery!), and first MySpace default photo that I know is still floating out there in cyberspace waiting to haunt me when I suddenly decide to run for office. 

But real talk: is style blogging so 2011? When I first started this site, blogging was still this niche community. "Blogger Royalty" didn't exist yet and my favorite bloggers wore clothes they had actually bought themselves. People who didn't know about this cyber-world probably thought I was weird for posting outfits of myself. But honestly, I didn't care. I had discovered a world of new ideas, bloggers I admired, and a platform to truly express myself. And suddenly, in the midst of this personal discovery...blogging became a lot more mainstream and had its heyday, if you will. But, in my opinion, this heyday has since come and gone—replaced with Instagrams and Vines and Snapchats and a cultural desire for short form content with a few more filters and lot fewer words. And while I love photography and really do believe a picture is worth a thousand words...this makes me kind of sad.

But, that's not to say I ever blogged because I thought it was cool. I'm just saying that as the media landscape has shifted...so have my own tastes and interests. It's a shift that's pulling me in a few different directions. Towards photography and towards longer prose...neither of which feel quite right on a style blog named after coffee and clothes.

I'm wanting more from myself creatively...I'm just not sure what that "more" is yet. However, I do think this past year helped set a foundation for me to find out. 

—

In all honestly, 2015 was not the easiest. It was a year of growing up. I mean, I'm not 100% an adult since I still don't fully understand insurance premiums or know how much cell phone service costs sans family plan. But nevertheless, it was a big year for me. 

I moved into my own studio, I worked long nights and early mornings, I took my photography more seriously, I made good decisions that went south and bad decisions that turned into wonderful surprises, I allowed myself to embrace the unexpected, and net net...I kept my 2015 resolution.

All in all, I'm still undecided about what's next for this dear old blog. Or...what's next for me, rather. While I'm not the same doe-eyed undergrad who started this blog 5 years ago, a large part of me fears that in giving it up, I'll be giving up a part of myself. The part—the girl—who found solace writing blog posts late at night in her sorority closet (truth) and found an identity as The Caffeinated Closet.

Yes, the same girl who is trying to shop less and give up coffee for 2016.

Yup, that one. 

Passing Through

I spent last weekend sorting through my iPhoto library; reliving my travels. When I first went abroad, I had just bought my DSLR and—through sheer trial and error—was teaching myself how to use it by religiously documenting my trip. Luckily, the haphazard photos I collected over those six months later served a purpose. I came to depend on those albums—scrolling through them on an almost daily basis to cope with the unexpected (reverse) culture shock I felt coming back home.

Fast forward a few years and I'm back at my scrolling. But, what's interesting is that the shots I cherish the most now are not the ones you might expect (hint: they don't involve me in a psuedo-Euro-chic outfit posed in front of X monument). These days, I'm drawn to the photos that capture a seemingly ordinary moment in time. Featuring people I'll never see again and movement that can't be replicated, no matter how many times I retrace my steps.

And so, this little black & white photo series was born.

Comprised of old and new... and just passing through.

Backyard

Let me preface this post by saying...I'm not entirely exaggerating when I refer to this as my new backyard. It's a 10 minute drive from my apartment and a reasonably timed hike for the rare occasion I wear my yoga pants to actually like, exercise. 

On a Sunday night whim, a couple friends and I ventured up to the Griffith Observatory to take in the view and the last few hours of the weekend. It was one of those aimless summer evenings. Our night at Griffith felt like summer the same way that drinking too much Pinot Grigio on the staircase of my un-air conditioned college apartment felt like summer. Moments like this embody that intangible characteristic of the season...but have become too few and far between lately.

Next to us at the top of the observatory was a young couple admiring the view. One of them was visiting from Paris for the week, so my friends and I subconsciously stepped up our LA-game, reciting the names of streets like a scene right out of The Californians. There was even a heated debate about whether or not the bright light running down the center of the city is in fact Western Avenue—jury/Google Maps is still out if anyone would like to lend some geographic expertise. 

And as we loudly pointed and squealed when we recognized a landmark, the dreamy French boyfriend (note: not just an archetype used for the dramatization of this blog post) stood in awe at our extensive, probably misguided, knowledge of Los Angeles.

It was a weird moment. Because, atop a big hill filled with buses of tourists...I felt unusually at home. Somehow, even after moving to the opposite side of town, I'm still in love with this dysfunctional city.

And yeah, it doesn't hurt that I have a telescope in my backyard.

Juncture

I have a love/hate relationship with summer. The past three have brought about lots of changes—falling somewhere in between forgettable and somewhat earth shattering. And this summer appears to be no different. 

I've been MIA from this blog yet again...but if I look back at my pattern of summer postings, I always seem to drop off somewhere in June and find my way back by fall.  Right now, my hiatus is from a combination of things. I'm working the hardest I ever have, wearing many hats and trying to learn as much as I possibly can while I'm still early on in my career. I rarely talk about my job on this blog because I like to keep this world separate, but this summer has been an important time for me at work. 

I'm also putting down roots in LA for the foreseeable future. This spring brought about the first of many quarter(ish) life crises, where each week felt like my life was about to take a complete 180. It was a constant game of stop and go. And it was, to put it simply, exhausting. Even though I couldn't plan past the next week, I didn't live a second in the moment. I wasted 6 months waiting for my life to start. I almost dropped everything to aimlessly travel the world (really). And while that's definitely still a part of the plan, it may need to wait a couple more years.

After all the stop and go, I've finally reached a juncture—the beginning of a new chapter. I'm moving...again. This time, into my own little studio on the Eastside. I'm incredibly excited and nervous at the same time. It's cute, tiny, old and has appliances from the 1950s which may or may not be up to code. It's the first time I'll be living alone and as scary as it might be, it feels like the right time to step out of my comfort zone. 

I spent most of my formative years (and who are we kidding, I'm still in my formative years...but bear with that statement for the purpose of this post) as a we—not a me. While everyone was living a normal, wonderfully reckless college existence...I was meticulously mapping out my Five-Year Plan which involved marriage, kids, and a life so drastically different from where I see those five years now, that the only thing left to do is to chuckle uncomfortably and move on.  But, even as admittedly hard and lonely and frustrating as being just me can be sometimes...this all feels right.

I'm excited to have a place that is truly my own.

So here's to a summer of good change.

...it would appear that the Weird Rut of 2015 (as it's officially named) had a purpose after all.

That Wall

Okay okay I know I said I wasn't going to give into florals for spring. But, I walked into Zara last weekend looking for Vegas outfits and left with these funky printed shorts instead. Call me a creature of habit (I never fail to live up to that title) but within a week's time it looks like I'm back to my old ways.

Style aside, I think this "back to my old ways" M.O. has been nothing but trouble lately. And while it's not manifesting itself into anything in particular...I feel stuck. I've hit a brick wall, if you will. Even though I know it's probably the first of many twenty-something-postgrad-struggles, I don't think I can shy away from this. I'm pretty sure it's one of those walls, the kind I've got to break through instead of quietly, awkwardly backing away from. (Extended metaphors—don't you just love them?)

But honestly, I'm not sure what's next...

and I guess that's the beauty of it.

____________

Shop This Post:

Forever 21 Denim Jacket

Madewell Black V-Neck

Zara High-Waisted Printed Shorts

TOMS Sunglasses

GUESS Gold Watch

Brown Leather Satchel

Target Black Strappy Sandals

Character Cap

Open my iPhone Notes app and you'll find a jumble of "dramatic" text message drafts, an amusing list of all dates gone awry, and hodge-podge scribbles of tweet-length thoughts that never came to be. Fleeting notions that felt too trivial to say out loud or blast to my 350 Twitter followers (but really, WHO is counting). Although, read my tweets and you'll probably wonder why my thought provoking-ideas about Trader Joe's made the cut while the embarrassing 10+ drafts of my one-line Tinder bio did not.

More and more, I've found myself reimagining these small soundbites in written form rather than just letting them be forgotten (granted, many times, they probably should be left behind). Pre-social media, I would have just scribbled them down in a journal and never looked back. But now, even with a million social outlets at my disposable, I can never decide on the right medium for these ideas. Because truthfully, I can't help but constantly self-edit. Is this too random? Is it too spammy to post 5 things at once? Will anyone understand my "creative" revelations? Should I just text this random garble to someone instead... (hint: the answer is usually, NO.)

And it's only after running through all these questions that I sit back, and realize I've just spent the past 10 minutes agonizing over a statement about hipsters. Or LA traffic. Or something passive yet political (is that a thing?) that I don't feel informed enough—despite all my Skimming—to publicly associate myself with. And after all the internal back-and-forth...I feel a little silly. BUT, unfortunately not silly enough to keep myself from writing this blog post. I guess the creative process is weird like that.

So, I'm going to continue making a habit of jotting these ideas down and sharing them on whatever medium strikes my fancy in the moment. Beware of rogue text messages, iPhone contacts. Because, you never know when divine inspiration will hit and turn that nonsensical tweet into a NY Times Bestseller...

At least, that's on the 5-year plan.

Will Return

You know when you get caught up crossing things off your to-do list, neurotically checking emails, doing cultural ish, obsessing over the perfect insta filter for your b-b-basic photo, causing trouble before noon on Saturdays, and suddenly you look up and BAM it's the middle of April and you're like...my wall calendar still says it's January.

WELL, I hope you know what I mean. And while it's highly unlikely you can relate to all of the above, that's been my life lately. Time is passing far too quickly and I'm not sure I have much more to show for myself other than this Tumblr I created on a whim because...who doesn't need ONE more social network to update!?

But in all seriousness, as of late, I've been putting a lot more time into my photography and it's something I'm pretty excited about. Hobbies are good. This one forces me out of my apartment when I feel like sleeping in 'til 2pm noon. I'm finally exploring new parts of LA every week. And it's taken me out of my comfort zone in the best way possible.

TGIF.

Now // Next

I had a very interesting conversation this week about the idea of how a single moment or meeting can completely change the direction of your life. How for every million mundane moments that don't have a significant impact, there's that one that changes everything. That one hand of cards (if I'm going to get all metaphorical) where you just get lucky. And I think I often go about my life hoping for that moment—often to a fault. It's a very romantic view of the world that constantly idealizes the future. Once this happens, everything will change. etc. etc. etc. 

The past month or so, I've been living in a bit of a limbo. Waiting for the "next big thing"—the next big change that will drastically change my day-to-day and everything about my life. But in the midst of hoping and anticipating for a change, I've kind of lost the now. Which is unfortunate since I often find myself (internally) scolding people who only live in the future tense. Three weeks 'til this vacation; 6 months 'til this promotion; 1 year 'til this graduate school. It always feels like a waste of the present.

But the truth is, I'm just as guilty if not guiltier than all the rest. I think a slight discontentment with my current situation (even though Thought Catalog and every other millennial publication tells me I'm not alone) has led me to project everything on the next. And yes, maybe, hopefully something great is right around the corner. But regardless of what the future holds, I need to appreciate the present tense.

I know it's easier said than done. But, if nothing else, I think it's worth acknowledging. That's a whole lot better than nothing...right?

Full Moon

Last week, I went to Santa Monica after work with every intention of doing some shopping and running a few errands. There's a parking lot a little off the main promenade that has a great view of the city, so whenever I'm in the area I try to park on the top level to catch the view—especially around sunset.

As it turns out, on this particular night my errands were perfectly timed with a gorgeous sunset and full moon. So gorgeous, that I didn't wind up running any errands that night or even leaving the parking garage at all. Which is kind of a big deal, since there was a sale at Madewell and I had grand plans to buy something I didn't need at Anthropologie. (I may be the only person who plans their impulse shopping, but we all have our things.) Instead of shopping to fill some unexplained "void" that had been nagging me all week, I spent a good hour enjoying the view and taking photos. And I felt...unusually at peace. 

Working can be tough. Postgrad life can be weird and confusing. I often find myself dramatically alternating between feeling inspired and dissatisfied—sometimes even within the same day. There are some weeks where checking "return jeans" or "pick up almond milk" off my iPhone To-Do list feels like my biggest accomplishment. But then there's moments like this...

...where genuine happiness (somehow) comes in the form of taking photos alone on top of a Santa Monica parking garage on a Thursday night.

The Archives

As I'm sure I've mentioned many times before, I'm a bit of a clothes hoarder and will keep certain pieces for years. I like to think of my closet as a collection of my favorite things and I often pull from "the archives" when I look at my wardrobe (full of clothes, mind you) and foolishly declare: I have nothing to wear! Which on this particular day translated to: I have nothing new to wear, and will therefore pull out my tried-and-true cardi from one of my very first blog posts.

That's the thing about having a blog. I've documented the wear and tear of this silly little cardigan that I got on sale (yes I still remember and yes you should read my old posts and cringe with me) and, without realizing it, the past 4 years of my life in between. It's a little unnerving reading old posts, realizing how much my priorities have changed over time. It makes me half-miss college, while half-realize I was a complete nutcase who stressed out way. too. much. (Admittedly still kind of do, but I'm getting better!) Anyway, do yourself a favor and look back at a photo from your own archives (old Myspace?—would love if mine still existed in cyberspace). Maybe it'll get you thinking about life and priorities and things like that. Or if you're like me, maybe you'll just really question why you thought that haircut was a good idea.

Nostalgia aside, a word to the wise: this whole "archive" rule should really only be applied to fashion. But at the same time...sometimes you won't know unless you try. At least that's what I seem to keep telling myself.

Happy hump day :)

___________

Outfit Details:

Anthropologie Lace Cardigan

ZARA Black Tank Top

GUESS Classic Gold Watch

Etsy Gold Wishbone Necklace

GUESS High-Waisted Jeans

Madewell Glasgow Satchel

Banana Republic Tan Sandals

Coffee Talk

I walked into my favorite coffee shop this morning (or let's be honest, this afternoon...because weekend mornings don't really exist in my book) to find that the power was out. Of course, my first general reaction was panic because I have a strange attachment to this Saturday ritual and can't function without my mid-afternoon double Americano and wheat bagel.

But panic aside, I noticed something different in the air. I've been coming to this coffee shop the past six months and it's a funny little place. There's no WiFi (which these days has got to be some sort of social statement) and is a tiny shop with a handful of rickety cafe tables cramped together. From what I've observed, it's usually filled with awkward/wonderful first dates (I've eavesdropped on them all), "industry people" brainstorming new screenplays, or simply good friends catching up. I spend most of my time in line just observing the different groups, and it's always interesting to see the 10+ different conversations–or worlds, rather—coexisting in such a small space.

But, today felt different. I must have walked in right as the power had shut off, because the room was buzzing with conversation. And not separate conversations. But instead, integrated and commingling chatter. That's right. Believe it or not...in the middle of LA on a Saturday afternoon...strangers were actually talking to each other. And if you haven't lived in LA before let me tell you, that's a pretty strange sight. It felt like some sort of social wall had been broken. It was refreshing, and a random moment in time that got me thinking my whole walk home and compelled me to open up a new post and start rambling.

I can't confirm with any historical data, but I'm pretty sure there was a world before electricity or cell phones or all this new-fangled technology. And, it was probably buzzing with a lot of great coffee talk among strangers and friends.

P.S. That photo wasn't taken at my neighborhood spot...but I've been too busy 'gramming important things like flowers and beaches and bikes to think to snap a photo of my Saturday afternoon Americano.

The Commute

I may be one of the few people out there who doesn't mind my Westside to DTLA commute. Granted, anything over an hour will turn me into a crazy person, but there's something relaxing about the 45 minute drive I make to and from work. It's a time I use to brainstorm new ideas, listen to music (I generally avoid the radio, which makes me somewhat pop-culture illiterate...but I'm working on it.) and yes, occasionally wallow in a steady rotation of twenty-something crises (career, creativity, cheap dates...you get the idea). Or door number four: completely disconnect and do nothing but pay attention to the road ahead. Literally—and maybe even figuratively. I try to think it's not time wasted...although if I was proactive I would have probably learned 3 new languages on Rosetta Stone by now.

The notion of wasted time has been on my mind a lot lately. And a daily commute is really only a tangible representation of it. But as of late, I've been making a concerted effort—which entails constantly reminding myself that it's OKAY—to alter my perception of what often feels like treading water. Because maybe it's not "treading water" if I'm learning along the way.

Side note: Last week, I took a detour through Downtown to meet a friend for drinks and was caught in the worst traffic ever. After I hadn't moved in 3 green lights, I decided to pull out my camera and take a moment to appreciate the city moving around me. Call it a perfect coincidence, but there's something kind of poetic (and ironic) about the movement on the street contrasted by the rows of people stuck in their cars, probably on their evening commutes—not moving. Or worse...wasting time.

P.S. I wrote this post here. It's my attempt at making LA more European. Jury's still out on whether the dramatic cultural shift will actually happen or if I'm just a girl blogging in a bar.

New Year, Same Me

I'm never quite sure how to feel about New Years posts. When it finally comes time to write one, I always feel like I'm at a loss for words—overwhelmed at the task of summarizing an entire year in a single post. And I'm not sure who these posts are really for, since my personal (old school scribbled, not typed) diary might give you a much different story than the one I'm sharing on this blog. But, I'd like to think that somewhere in my jumbled stream of consciousness that I'm anxiously writing in the last two hours of January 1 (because after that, who really wants to read a reflective New Year, New Me post?) there may be a few relatable bits and pieces.

Let me start off by saying that even if I could, I wouldn't change a thing about this year. Because even with the memories I kind of want to erase (and yes, there are more than a few)...I learned something important about myself and about others. It's been a crazy, terrible/terribly wonderful 12 months. There have been a lot of emotions. Of uncertainty, of anxiety, of passion, of loneliness, of excitement, of newfound independence...that all cumulatively feel like some sort of twenty-something right of passage. The kind of feelings that make me think maybe T-Swift was onto something.

2014 was a year of transition for me. It was my first official year out of school...even though I pretended to be in college until June. And getting used to the 8 to 5 lifestyle (or let's be honest, 7 to 7 lifestyle because commuting is a real life thing that actually sucks) isn't as easy as I thought it would be. But at the same time, it's been great. I honestly think I may be having more fun as a postgrad than I did in college. PSA: Life doesn't end after college. Especially when you're lucky enough to have best friends to brave this uncharted territory with you. In fact, there's something liberating about this newfound independence, this quasi-adulthood. As challenging as working full-time can be, it can be just as fulfilling. And paying Big Girl bills yourself is also kind of rewarding—especially when you finally accept that you have no actual concept of personal finance and that that's OK, at least for the time being.

I decided to post a photo of my cozy post-college apartment, because it's been my little refuge for the second half of the year. It was a move that came at a time I desperately needed to be pulled out of a rut, and centered me when I had felt like a postgrad hobo bouncing between empty apartments, sublets, and my hometown for an entire summer. Also, if you need a remedy for a broken heart, moving to a new place and focusing all your energy on custom framing and decorative throw pillows can help. I think the saying goes something like: The best way to get over someone is to get under...a new Anthropologie duvet? Jury's still out on that one, but it certainly didn't hurt.

I'm not very good at making resolutions, and even the ones I do make are too vague to keep. (Eat healthier, exercise more. Does more imply "more" than once?). But there is a kind of resolution I do want to keep this year, since whether I want to admit it or not, a lot of 2014 felt dictated by a number of personal relationships. So for 2015, I want to be the one in command of my own happiness. I've got a diary full of reasons behind this resolution, but nothing is more blog-worthy than that simple statement.

So, cheers to 2015!  It's a new year, but it's the same me. This time, actively taking control of my own well-being.

Postgrad year #2: I'm ready for you.

Stop Light

This is one of my favorite intersections in DTLA. It's right in front of the Ace Hotel and the other side of Broadway has a row of colorful old theaters all down the road. Kind of weird that the last time I took blog photos here was back in April, because it honestly feels like yesterday.

Now, I'm really really tempted to use this street corner setting to go off on a wonderfully metaphoric tangent about stop lights and life and transitions, and that feeling where change is happening all around you whether you like it (or not, definitely not) but you're kind of stuck in autopilot and don't know which way is up let alone which direction is right, correct or a direction that will push your twenty-two-year-old self out of your comfort zone just enough to give you that rush of change—good change—but not enough to leave you paralyzed...standing on a street corner.

So...where was I? Important thoughts on velvet? Apparently it's back in style and I can conveniently recycle this funky piece another year.

Happy Monday :)

___________

Outfit Details:

Gypsy Junkies Velvet Jacket

Nordstrom BP Infinity Scarf

Madewell White Tank Top

Nars Matte Lip Pencil in Cruella

Nixon Kensington Leather Watch

Madewell Skinny Skinny Jeans

Fossil Brown Explorer Tote

Seychelles Nude Mules

The Theory Of Somethings

{image via 40 Days Of Dating—grab a bottle of wine and read the entire blog in one sitting, you won't regret it}

I just saw The Theory of Everything (alone I might add—it's a new thing for me and I really like it) and it got me thinking about well, everything. But namely...love. A taboo word I've somehow avoided on this blog, except while in a happy relationship. Yet, funnily enough, I think my reflection on love now—as an outsider looking in—might be all the more interesting than a post singing its praises by someone wrapped up in the midst of it.

What first sparked my reflection was a discussion I had with my best friend after she saw the film a week prior. Her critique was that the love story was uninspiring and painted a negative picture of marriage. While I agree that it isn't successful marriage propaganda, its realistic portrayal of the struggles of life and marriage is what I found most, well...inspiring.

This was a love story whose happy ending lay on the other side of that love. A story that feels (and is) real, because so much happiness can be found on the other side of a romance. Sometimes that happiness may come with new love, or other times, it can come with an acceptance that the person was right for you at one point, but that phase of your life has come and gone. And so rarely do films showcase this very real truth. I think that's what's so captivating about it.

I often feel that finding love is looked at as a linear process. You search (and by search...I mean linger in bars, make questionable decisions and....swipe right) and search, you date, until finally one day you get it right. We've learned to expect a fairly simple process, haven't we?

But what about every love story in between? Like the love you truly thought would never end, but did. Or the one you knew would never last, but made you ignore all logic for an embarrassing amount of time. I'm beginning to think that there may not be one right person for you, but instead a right person for you during certain periods (however short or long) in your life.

I suppose the key, the ideal, is to find someone to span all those phases of life with you. Or at least every phase of life from the moment you meet them onwards. But that isn't always the case. And don't get me wrong—I'm not about to let go of the ideal just yet—but I am looking at it through a much different lens than before.

Anyway, the real point is: if you haven't already done so, see the film. It's two hours well spent.

No Thursday Needed

It's not #TBT or #FBF (Flashback Friday...Throwback Thursday's less popular cousin) but this isn't Instagram, so I therefore reserve the right to post a photo from two years ago whenever the hell I want. And while I would rather be posting a photo from new travels, I'm not currently jet-setting Europe so this old snap from Munich will have to do. Looking through my old pictures from living abroad (which I'm still having a lot of trouble believing was two years ago...) a few photos from this weekend trip to Germany stood out to me. I remember taking this selfie with my massive DSLR for no other reason than to remember my genuine happiness in that exact moment. It's nearly impossible for me to recall my exact emotions from that trip on the spot, but I do remember more the idea of a feeling I experienced—an unparalleled elation that came from exploring new places.

As much as I crave familiarity and consistency in my life (probably more than most), I think there's always going to be periods of time when I'm in need of some Grand Shakeup to throw me back into the mix. Kickstart creativity. Recreate that emotion, not just the idea of it. I may not be old enough to say "always"...but I have a feeling this statement will ring true far past my twenties.

Rather than reminiscing on past travels, I would like to be traveling. Which is a wonderful idea in theory, before real life responsibilities and obligations sneak their way in. I guess what I'm getting at is: I've caught the travel bug once again and want to make it a bigger priority in "the plan." SO pre-Grand Shakeup (thinking of trademarking this - good or bad idea?), whenever that may be, I'm working on cutting myself a little slack. An upcoming weekend trip to San Francisco will help. Along with this article. Read once & repeat.

The Edit

Lately, I've been thinking a lot about the social "edit" we go through on a daily basis. Perhaps this is just a symptom of me working in social media...but I can't help but think about the contrast between peoples' online personas and reality. Even on this blog (which I try to keep as authentic as possible) I'm creating an edited version of myself. Editing out the nitty gritty details that no one wants needs to hear about—postgrad turmoil, dating drama, mundane obligations, etc. etc. etc. It's a unique symptom of the generation (Gen X, Gen Y ...which one is it again? All I know is I'm a Millennial and marketers love me) and I'm sure there will be plenty to be said about this—and us—twenty, fifty, or a hundred years from now.

A week or so ago, in an attempt to make myself feel better about the whole not-being-a-student-thing I went through a couple of my favorite class syllabi. While school has never been my favorite (although, yeah I'll definitely be the first to admit I miss certain aspects of it), there were a few Sociology classes I took that really stood out to me. One in particular was a unique seminar on Hipsters. I had completely forgotten until I re-read it, but I wrote my final paper on the Modern Hipster's use of social media as a means of creating his or her identity. Performing and reinforcing their "coolness" through a filtered (no pun intended) version of themselves. 

And it's so true, it's too true. There are 100% a million times (math) I would love to temporarily unplug if it weren't a part of my work and the fact that while there are some pretty negative symptoms of social media...there's also an invaluable connectivity gained from being plugged-in. While sometimes I don't care that #Beyonce is trending on Twitter, or the latest #OOTD someone (could have been me!) posted, I do care about the real time interaction and the virtually instantaneous spread of information.

If you're wondering what the hell kind of non-outfit post this is, the truth is I don't have any essays for class to channel these random thoughts so I figured I might as well use a platform I do have. Blogspot has provided me with an internet soapbox so I'm going to use it! Maybe it's time for me to consider pursuing my PHD in Social Media. Is that a thing?

Food for thought.

P.S. this photo was taken in The Last Bookstore in Downtown. I went for the photo op...but it's a pretty cool place worth checking out.

Soapbox

I don't know whether it was my new dress or something else in the air, but I just felt like blogging. And it's a feeling I've been waiting on for quite some time. I've fallen in and out of ruts, but thankfully inspiration has always managed to find its way back to me. However, I must say that waiting for it when it's missing is an uncomfortable and downright painful process. There's nothing particularly special about this outfit, but it made me feel like a cool-girl rocking a paper bag and has enough edge to potentially intimidate a stranger upon first glance. SO, it felt blog worthy. This dress was one of those purchases (like many that I make at Madewell) that I had to sort of force myself to buy. But I've quickly become obsessed/plan to never take it off. Seriously: sleeping, eating, plus-ing or minus-ing 15 pounds—this shift can and will withstand anything. The last recorded case of this kind of obsession involves my grey sweatshirt dress which will likely come back in heavy rotation once it starts to cool down in LA.

I can already feel it...this post is going to be long and wordy and much more information than you probably want in an outfit post. I get it—you came here for outfits and suggestive shopping links—I'm the same way. But, I've salvaged my little old internet soapbox, if only for a moment, so I'm going to ramble as long as my html and attention span will let me.

Lately, I've been caught up in everything except myself and as silly as that sounds, it's true. I think sometimes we (and by we, I mean me) lose ourselves in relationships, work, and anything in between. When one part of my life falls out of whack, it takes a while for me to find my center. And when more than one thing is off-balance, well...that's when I don't blog for five months and only pop in to write a few lengthy and wonderfully vague posts about "life, etc." However, I can feel myself gradually bouncing back and I think a lot of it has to do with my active attempt at building a schedule, finding contentment in routine, and pushing myself to just go through the motions until something feels different. Best post-grad advice I've been given. Thanks Mom.

So here's to a long overdue outfit post. And hoping this isn't just a momentary spark of style blogging brilliance. And by brilliance, I really just mean attendance.

I'm here—present & dressed, clothed & caffeinated. Happy fall.

_____________
Outfit Details:

Shift Dress—Madewell
Cameo Necklace—Vintage
Gold Watch—GUESS
Black Crossbody—Vintage Coach
Brown Ankle Boots—Madewell

That Wave

The longer I go not blogging, the easier it becomes to, well...not blog. I can't remember the last time I took an outfit photo. And you know what? I'm okay with it. While I'm not ready to completely break up with this blog, I think this hiatus is necessary.

I've got a whole lot of thoughts about a whole lot of things and I'm not sure where to pick up. And I don't know what feels appropriate or not to share on this "style" blog. Or, let's be honest, the internet in general. Without blogging, I feel like I'm lacking a creative outlet, but I can't put my finger on the type of creative outlet I'm in desperate need of.

I've spent the past month not-so-secretly binge watching Sex and the City (yes, there are a million other more intellectual shows to watch, but there's something so relatable about it that I just can't resist.) and a part of me really just wants to be a Carrie and magically support myself in NYC by writing one relationship column. Which, nowadays, would be like me paying my overpriced LA rent by contributing one blog post to Cosmopolitan per month - sound about right? But truthfully, a lot of what I've wanted to blog about lately has not been about fashion or style. In fact, it's been the furthest thing from it. Blame it on working in fashion, but once I get home, the last thing I want to do is look at another screen and keep talking about clothes. Don't get me wrong, I'll always love clothes, but variety really is the spice of life.

I think I'm in the midst of one of those angsty #postgrad transitions (I should probably start contributing to Thought Catalog.) and I'm riding that wave of change. Honestly, the changes have been mostly good. But change is change nonetheless and it still leaves me with an unsettled feeling that I can't quite place. Anyway, I'm not sure where I'm going with this. Just thought I'd check in and give a cyber hey-I'm-still-around-but-nope-still-no-outfits. And in the meantime, while I figure out my creative calling, here's a mystical iPhone photo to enjoy. I say that sarcastically, but I actually do really love this shot. You don't always need a fancy DSLR to perfectly capture a moment.

It's been nice to scribble back in this journal blog for a little bit. Be back soon...maybe :)

Transitions

My my my it's been quite a while, hasn't it? This wasn't one of those planned blogging breaks. It was one of those breaks where life got crazy and suddenly I had a second to breathe, looked at my blog, and realized I hadn't posted for over two months. Whether you're in school or not, there's just something about summer that feels transitory. I know I'm certainly in a place of transition right now. Even though I finished classes back in December, I'm officially officially a graduate. It's the end of a wonderful mini-era that I wouldn't change for the world. I don't know if I'd relive it in a heartbeat, since I finally feel ready to move on to the next chapter, but I do know that I'll miss every second of it.

One of the strangest parts of this transition is watching friends leave, while things stay relatively the same for me. I'm still at the same great job and will still be in LA for the foreseeable future. However, I can't help but feel somewhat left behind while everything is changing around me. On another note, I'm not quite sure about the future of this little blog of mine either. I've made no promises to myself one way or the other, but right now life is too busy for me to make it a priority. And...I know it'll still be here whenever I do decide to come back.

For now, I'm just going to ride the wave of this summer transition. I'm in between apartments and will be "moving" for the next month (Moving "Day" is a myth—it feels more like Moving Year) so everything is disorganized and up in the air. I don't do well with change, but I'm working on it and trying to do that thing called living in the moment. We'll see how it goes :)