I chase waves

fashion week bitterness

I spent my college years dreaming of working in the fashion industry, with visions of louis vuitton bags (got one, don’t use it), beautifully tailored clothes (hello, rag & bone) and fabulous people. now having worked it for over five years (I know, I’m just a baby) I am becoming increasingly sick of it. that sounds whiny, yes, but it’s true. first of all, as a very curvy & tall girl (5’ 9”, size 8) with the inability to get a tan, I don’t fit the physical profile of what is generally accepted in the industry. this alone wouldn’t affect me, as I’m relatively comfortable with who I am and how I look. it’s the obsessive comments from these size 2 girls all day about the weight they’ve gained and their immediate expectation for me to dispute what they are saying. I DON’T CARE. and it’s the expectation that my extra $$ go to buying $800 bags and $600 Chanel flats, etc. my money goes to travel, plain and simple. and everyone is so mystified by this. what is the point of seeing beautiful things and beautiful people if you aren’t seeing all the beautiful places our planet has to offer? someone actually said to me, why would you want to go to africa? weren’t you scared of all the poor people? REALLY????

so in the midst of another fashion week, when I should be excited to see the innovation and beauty that is coming from the genius minds of the designers I love and respect, I’m just a grumpy bitch. I think the only cure is to spend the day on nymag.com checking out the shows and reminding myself why I got into this mess in the first place (especially knowing that my days are somewhat numbered…)