I've been engrossed in a single thought for the past month. Tossing it around in my head, turning it upside down, shaking it dizzy. Trying to put it into words that come across as something other than late night gibberish. How its habitual to mesh in with the crowd and those that don't beg for ways in and how those who are in, don't even see themselves sliding off the edge of the cliff with the rest of the sheep.
Fashion blogging has become a bit too familiar. I click on links and see macaroons, Valentino Rockstud pumps and Celine Luggage Totes over and over again. I scroll down my bloglovin dashboard and the sheep continuously fall. Although they're replicated quite glamorously, they all appear the same. White. Fluffy. Expensive. I personally think macaroons taste like rubber bands.
I began to put myself in a box (one of my lifelong issues) with fashion. Which is a major crime in itself. Fashion is meant to express individuality, creativity and emotion. I channeled my inner Twain and thought to myself, "it's time to pause and reflect. I don't want to be the majority."
And so I'm going to write. I'm going to take photographs that interest not only my readers and the 'world of blogging' but myself as well. I'm going to post what inspires me and translate it into my clothing. And hopefully what I adore creating pushes through the replications.