When I wear Anna Sui, I feel absolutely invincible. In the way that the lead singer of a rock band feels when he or she performs on stage. Attending the Anna Sui show this past NYFW just reiterated my love for Anna’s aesthetics, which is grounded so deeply in music and rings so true of her passion for it. You feel the beat in the bones of her designs. The way they move down the runway. The way they shimmer in the light. They layer together in a way that gives light on what is beneath all the way to the bottom. Every single texture speaks boldly and confidently like a tune you can’t get out of your hair. The past is her muse . . . but so much of the future is felt when I see Anna’s designs float (or should I say sashay) down the runway. Every season is a literal transport to a story in time that existed once, but can be touched upon again through the threads put on one’s shoulders. That’s the beauty of Anna’s retelling. She doesn’t change the story in history . . . she sheds light with her own perspective. What I feel when I view her collections is that no matter how history rolls out, the idea of playing to the beat of one’s own drum should never be lost. And that perspective is the coolest thing ever. Long live Anna Sui, the woman who made me care about the clothes I put on my body when I was a pre-teen, and the feeling they gave me when I walked out the door.
Everybody is talking about that feeling of gaining that first spring back into one’s step around this time of the year. When the weather shifts, and all of a sudden hope seems to be popping up out of every hidden corner. The sun, the warmth, a feeling of something brand new even more new than the other brand new that we thought we just had. The energy changes and all of a sudden we are shaken up in a way different than when we were ringing in the new year with expectations of all sorts just two months ago. Was it really only two months ago?! And now here we are, spring around the corner, and some of those expectations may or may not have fallen even lower. But for some reason, at least for me, right now in between seasons of a desolate winter and an approachable spring, there seems to be no reason to skip a step or lose a beat. My experiences and the happenings of the past two months of my life I have found were never predictors of my future. Because I know and believe that things can change in an instant, for both the good and for the bad. So instead I looked at the last two months in a way that showed me a taste of what could or could not come . . . bits and pieces of an entire spectrum of possibilities (some that maybe I did not even think of before or never felt like I could ever be ready for). It’s easy in today’s day and age of competition and distractions and frustrations and road blocks and self consciousness, to turn a blind eye to the possibilities that seem impossible. In a way, turning a blind eye to these things is like turning what feels invisible even more invisible. Throwing them away as if not an ounce of life could thrust forth from within them. I think I knew I have finally become an adult when I stopped throwing the idea of these sort of possibilities away. The impossible sort of possibilities, if that makes sense. And as I held onto them longer, the stronger I started to feel. Happier, like the marigold color of this jacket I’m wearing in this post. And now here I go again, turning the color of my clothes into a real life feeling. Holding onto bits of sunshine and comparing it to something like looking hope right in the face and handing myself right over to it, and saying whatever it all is that is meant to cross my path, I’ll be ready. I’ll be ready for what shows up on my doorstep. And I’ll be ready for what doesn’t show up at all. And like that, no longer do I feel like a prisoner to old expectations.
It seemed impossible to continue to keep on falling for a man from thousands of miles away, but still my heart has never beaten faster and I can’t image that happening for me with anyone else. It seemed impossible a year ago that true friends who really got my back could exist in this cutthroat industry (not to mention city), but that was only because I kept letting the one’s who made me feel down around too long. I may count my closest friends on only one hand and maybe an extra thumb nowadays, but I wouldn’t have it any other way. It seemed impossible to feel fresh and renewed at the age of 29 after years of the daily grind, but today I’ve never felt my best. It’s like just yesterday I was 18. Tomorrow, maybe I’ll be 17. It’s easy to feel young when living doesn’t feel like a 9-5 job. I was looking into making my first home purchase on a whim a few weeks ago, stressed and forced because of lack of time, only to lose out on it. Will it ever be possible to get such a deal again? Should I have fought for that harder? But deep down inside I know with all my heart that something better for me is meant to come along. And so it is absolutely possible to have no regrets. Because something new is always waiting on the other side. As long as you see it that way.
And so here I go, wearing my FEELS in the form of a marigold coat that makes me feel as full of worth as gold, a sunshine yellow dress with a fit that reminds me why being a woman is incomparable to anything else, and a fuschia pink top just for the heck of it to represent my love for hope and the possibility of love itself in every sort of situation (and to not freeze to death on the streets of NYC even though both this top and coat together are actually not really cutting it AT ALL . . . but hey it was fashion week).
I will be jumping on a flight to me beloved Southern California on Thursday afternoon. The homeland. The heart. hehe. It really is an unconditional love that I have for California. Summer afternoons lounging in my hammock in the backyard devouring book after book. Dog walking my neighbor’s dogs as an excuse to explore the neighborhood and get into trouble. Spying on the neighbors and as a result coming to know too many secrets. The older girl next door telling us everything there is to know about being a woman. Far too much that a 10 year old should know. Telling my mom I was going to my friend’s house when really I was hanging out with skater boys at the abandoned pools of boring suburban backyards. Pretending I could skate, when really I sucked and scraped my skinny knees as a result time and time again. Barefoot more often than not. Kissing messy haired boys behind the movie theater on a Thursday night. But staying out no later than 9pm. I could get in my car on the weekends and head anywhere I wanted. I’d feel like going to San Diego and then I’d be there in a few hours. The days always felt longer. The sun closer. The grass greener. The taste of it all was like a strawberry milkshake. Or a cold Coca Cola. Oh how I pine for those sunny memories sometimes. A lot of times actually. Mara Hoffman‘s S/S 2016 collection reminds me of California. It reminds me of the long road trips my parents would take my sister and I through the desert to Nevada and Arizona. The windows rolled down because of the heat. My head sticking out the side like a fresh pup. But a more grown up, chic version of that, of course. One that lives for rainbows and the desert. That survives off the water of cacti. That takes freeways that have no end in sight . . . a directionless road ahead. This collection can take me anywhere I feel.
And fashion week is officially over for me 🙂 I sort of still can’t feel my feet just like how The Weeknd still can’t feel his face, but it’s totally okay. Because I survived. With Mercedes Benz pulling out of fashion week after last season, everyone was not sure what to expect of this time around. So many questions were being thrown around. Will fashion week ever be the same again? Where will the shows be now? Is anyone even going to care again about fashion week? Well, all of our answers have been answered. And while the photographers might be complaining about all the multiple venues and running around the city chasing down good style, us fashion show attendees are doing quite the opposite. Fashion week was a fresh change for us, thanks so some new environments and neighborhoods that designer’s have decided to show at. Not only that, it felt calm, which is the exact opposite adjective we would use to describe the horde of people waiting outside of Lincoln Center all day and all night. This season, because it wasn’t so central, us fashion goers caught to experience more of the electricity of the city as opposed to just a main show venue or two that can come to feel pretty redundant after a while. Wall Street. 1 World Trade Center. Houston and Washington. 33rd and 9th Ave. Chelsea Piers. It’s fashion! An industry that celebrates change, so it only makes sense that a season like this one would come around, and hopefully will continue to do so more often in the upcoming seasons. My feet are still tired, and I probably stayed up later than I should this past week, but my mind is hungry for more of the beautiful things I was lucky enough to catch going down the runway. I still leave standout shows starry-eyed and dreamy faced, just like I did during my very first fashion week four years ago. It’s hard to shake that feeling. No more cities for me for the rest of this fashion month, but hey, maybe next season 🙂
So here’s my day two outfit for the shows. Was feeling a little tomboy, and wanted to rest my feet so threw on my favorite sneakers. Lace and overalls can be quite a pair I believe.