Thirty, Flirty, and Thriving

Okay, so I knew that reaching 30 posts in a little under three months and 4,000 views was kind of a big deal. So I brainstormed what I should do for my 30th post to capitalize on this. Brainstorming happened for three weeks

And I brainstormed.

And I brainstormed even more.

And more.

I'm still brainstorming. I've got it! I'll reflect on how much this blog has meant to meant over the past semester and how it has contributed to my career.

At the beginning of the semester, I had just returned from a hiatus of a little under a year  with no classes  to find myself somewhat out of sorts as far as classes were concerned. I remember taking my first test two weeks into the semester and feeling absolutely petrified to think that I might not remember the material.

But I digress.

My Media Writing Class, for which this blog was started, was absolutely concerning the first day. In so many words, my professor told forty pairs of anticipating, beady eyes including mine, that if we weren't ready to work really hard under tight deadlines, then by all means, jump ship quickly.

Nice. I armored myself mentally and jotted down a few notes in my planner. Especially after not having homework for so long, I was totally pumped to have assignments, even if that meant that I didn't sleep for days (which has happened on several occasions).

Our fist assignment was to create a blog, which to your benefit, you've taken time to read (I'm conceited, I know). The past July, I invested a few minutes to draft a blog about President Obama and the First Lady Michelle O. If you'd like to take a look at it, it's here:

My Life M.I.A.

At that point, I figured blogs were the makings of lonely closet writers that were the modern form of Emily Dickinson whose work was posthumously savored by the poetic crowd.

And I thought to myself, what a creative waste of time. But, with the promise of extra credit, I plugged away with concerted fervor.

Well I figured I might as well cover fashion, since I surrounded myself with it every evening I would figure out what to wear the next day. I first thought to take the angle of that of a social hopper, but who would want to wait to hear about those elite gatherings in college town only in the late Spring like Formals? So I took to the streets. What would an average, stylish student reach for to wear on an average day?

Armed with my pink camera and pink laptop, I was determined to find those fashionistas. So on my daily sprint to class in my 10 a.m. dash, I stalked out ABP (Au Bon Pain). Here she is, my first fashion subject:

Then I accepted a challenge from one of my good friends to wear jeans to class.  For me, that was entirely unheard of. I view dressing for class as a way to express a sense of professionalism as well as creatively dressing  after being repressed of my ability beneath the twelve years of uniform I suffered. 

Yes, suffered. Aside from the weekly mixers (where single-gender school children "mix" and have a sweaty orgy as masked by loud hip-hop and rap) I really had no reason for figuring out what to wear. No, excuse me, "Tag Day"s were an exclusion...but I digress. 

So there were fashion shows that a few of my friends in Roanoke were hosting (one is a photographer and the other  a jewelry designer, but proximity and timing were key limiting factors to my attending. Fortunately, a fashion show came to me. Well a fashion show of sorts, rather, a bridal show. 

There were so many factors that worked together to inhibit my attendance, but I staved them off with the determination and certainty that my missing it would be the end of humanity. Thus was born the following post: 

Something Borrowed, Something Blue

After having spent only one hour there, I managed to make invaluable connections including Angela Courser of Corsair Floral Decor who insisted, after reading my blog that I attend another bridal show at Smith Mountain Lake to meet a local designer Terissa Vaugn of Vaughn Designs. Fortunately, it was the Saturday right before Spring Break and thus was born the post below:

SML a Destination, Not a Shirt Size

  So I proceeded to take pictures of the stylish individuals around campus and made sure to make an appearance at fashion events in the area. Including a trunk show:

310 Rosemont 

whose direct link was mentioned in the Southern Proper's Twitter page. That day I had a couple hundred hits.  :)

Then I was in a couple fashion shows myself and I met Korto Mobtu (of Project Runway, of which I have yet to write about...lame), Ginny Hilfiger and the coolest designers of Virginia Tech. So here's to being Thirty Flirty thriving! : ) 

 Bear with me as I catch up on all the unpublished blogs I'm harboring and the Bridal fashion show next week and a D.C. designer! Also, I hope to cover what every individual should have in their closet, starting with "The Little Black Dress"! 

Much love, 

<3 SF : )

P.S. Here is MY favorite post of all time: 

Model Studies  

Surviving Exams 101

Okay, so after surviving my first exam out of three, I feel as though I have some relevant tips to impart upon my fellow test-takers! : )

Firstly, know your plan of attack:

If you have an exam before noon (if you're like me, 7:45), make sure you know exactly what you're going to wear. Even this fashionista was bumming it for the exams. So last night I laid out what I was going to wear! Then I proceeded to pack the corresponding purse with the necessary accoutrements needed for the following day's exam. I also knew I would only have time to shower in the morning, so I put absolutely everything that I would need in a pile so all I had to do was shower, dress and run out the door.

Wear what makes you feel good and is comfy:

So for all of you that bum it in jeans and sweats on a day to day basis, I would not advise attempting to get any comfier. However, I don't.

So I started with my favorite sweatshirt and worked from there.
Then I layered with a long sleeve shirt and short sleeve shirt. Jeans next. Loose, forgiving jeans. By that I mean those jeans that will help you forget that you didn't work out this morning. Haa! : )
Then a headband, my favorite mustard Chuck Taylors and a watch that's probably, more than likely 5 minutes ahead of time. Mmm...

Know what you need:

Math majors need formula sheets, philosophy students need those annoyingly small blue book or looseleaf. SF needed an essay, a #2 pencil, a 4 page essay, some sanity, visa card (for buying food, meal plan ran out over a month ago), ID card for getting back in the building and some raisins. Yes raisins. Great source of energy. I remember pulling an all nighter and the next day subsisting on primarily raisins and a few sips of coffee.

Oh I can hear it now. The ringing carouses of individuals admonishing me for my dining choices. No, I do not support unhealthy eating habits however, if you're in a bind, grab some raisins.

I also needed chewing gum to hold me during the exam until I could carb overload after the exam.

Lastly, BREATHE!

I haven't been able to because of an unspeakable respiratory affliction, commonly known as allergies. Allergies or a cold? Hmmm....

Regardless, all best with exam week! Now with my exam at 4! NOOOO!!!!


Untill soon, your very tired and spent and trying to avoid typos,

<3 SF

Taking the Time

Armed with my favorite mustard Chuck Taylor lowtops, and an oversized black purse, and my hair in a defiant ponytail, I was determined to enjoy the last of the lingering twilight over the horizon.

I'd gone to the tailgate out by the ball field and noted the lush sprawling grass that lined the expanse between the vet school, road and myself. Two seconds went by , and an eternity lapsed between myself and the second I closed then reopened my eyes. As if by divine intervention, the Hahn horticulture Garden sprung up in my line of vision. With my inhibition still tied around me snugly, I obediently walked around the garden, the long way and nodded greeting to the passerby. A gentle breeze beckoned me to glance over yet again. This time though, I obeyed willingly and ran into the abyss of visual stimulation.

I suddenly felt 5 again. All the canopies of trees made a low celing that I ducked in and out of.

SNEEZE! Lovely. The moment I decide to enjoy nature I suffer the wrath of my nasolacrimal passage rejecting all that is of the wild. Just great.

But that didn't stop me. I ran to the edge of the small pond and stopped on my tip toes, daring to fall in the 5 inches of pond scum and neon orange khoi. Each in turn bobbed and nodded to the surface of the body of water then kept on their way.
"Do not feed the fish" sign cautioned me in my peripheral vision. I wonder how many visitors had adhered to that rule? I wondered, as I savored a dry hamburger bun.

The soft grass muffled my footsteps. Am I here alone? I suppose so. I dropped my burden and continued my progression deeper into the maze of tree trunks, fallen branches and overhanging wysteria. Out of boredom I began to pretend that I was being chased. Or perhaps I would chase a suited rabbit down its hole into a wonderland of tea parties and talking playing cards. I'm game.

Hmm, sniffle, sniffle,  SNEEZE! I must admit, as whimsical as this is, the creepy guy that just walked by may have just doubled back around again and given me the once-over. Ok. Time to go. Sensibility kicks in and my air passage tightens. Wheeze. Cough. Sniffle, sniffle. Ah, lovely. Just lovely.

Two minutes later I pass by dorms and dining halls to my right. I could potentially prolong my getting home by meddling with the friends that would love to see me. However, this was without a doubt the first time in a long time that no one was expecting me to be anywhere at any time and I had no immediate deadlines. The realization was dangerously liberating. No deadlines or expectations awaited me. I was transported to a blissful childlike state yet again. I ran, again without direction, purpose or cause. Just because it felt right.

Feelings. Quite an unexplored section of my brain. Tick, tick, tick. I could feel the neurons in my brain in overdrive as I took in the colors, sights and sounds.

I stood again, in awe of my surroundings. Closing my eyes, I pointed my nose skyward and let the warm glow of the sun bathe my face and sink into my eyelids. No adventure would be compete without a prodding stick to work with.

Tiny, sweet, innocent and vulnerable little bundles of brown and yellow down tottered behind their mother as I approached. I tried to still them by making duck calling noises. Perhaps I used the wrong one? She stopped, cocked her beak in my  direction as if to listen momentarily, and continued on her way.

The makings of peat maybe? or something like it. An unmistakable scent of eggs and fungi followed me. In the stillness I was awed. It somehow felt like a moment out of a CGI film. Did places like this still exist? Apparently so.

It's that moment where you realize that some things are just beyond the confines of time, space, age, limit, bound, nationality, race and status. The stillness quieted me, I was no longer a child, but a transient being that surpassed time and space. I was myself. So much more, yet so much less, yet better in that one instant. I'm here once for a very short time. And for what it's worth, every second is made even more amazing by the passage of time and it's resolution.

I knew in that moment that I'd miss this place, too much to accept and everything with it.

Style Sightings!

Ok, so. Here's the deal: school happened, then life happened, then NEW YORK happened. So, now I can successfully post as the school year winds down and the summer picks up. AND, that also means my relocation to Washington D.C.!

I've yet to write about my final adventures in New York, so be ready for that. Until then, enjoy the Style Sightings from over a month ago! : )


Much love,

<3 SF

Hey look! That's my purse! Florals and neutrals are in! A light scarf to brighten the mood! : )

"So I went to work today and my boss says 'Get outta here, you're wearing UVA colors!'" Oops! : ) 

STOP MOVING! Looks like it came out of my closet! : )  Absolutely love her accessories!

So, she should be a repeat on here! Last time my camera died! : P 

Is she even a student here? Cute outfit nontheless! : ) 

Looks best buttoned up with just a peek of gingham ruffles showing! : )

Ginny Hillfiger's Fitting NYC Part2

“Well helloo! Come on in!” The voice’s owner was a petite blond that stood no more than 4 and a half feet from the ground. She smiled broadly from ear to ear and welcomed us past the threshold of her apartment in the Upper East Side, New York. I had just met the youngest sister of the world- famous designer Tommy Hillfiger.

Ginny’s apartment had a few dress forms outfitted with a few shifts which I recognized from her collections as posted online on www.ginnyh.com. What struck me upon entering was the window on my left which showed a perfectly outlined image of the George Washington Bridge over the Hudson river and to my right, an ideal view of the city and the tiny ants that milled about below us, carrying on their early morning tasks. I stared out at the George Washington Bridge. For a moment I had to move my head back and fourth to make sure that the window wasn’t a poster. My, what a view.

“Would you guys like something to drink?” Ginny asked, “Some Perrier?”

“Yes, thanks!” I smiled broadly, taking in my surroundings even further. I observed a woman with a notepad and another running about making sure that the rack of clothing, with at least fifty pieces of clothing on it was in order. Skirts, dresses, blouses, navys, blacks and blues caught my eye. And lots of shift dresses. It was as if the line had made a projection into the future of my wardrobe.

Finally after the arrival of 2 more models and an editor or two, we were ready to start.

“So, okay, I have some notes here, hmm”, Ginny said.  I readily looked on. I perused the rack with my eyes. I would be absolutely fine with wearing anything on the clothing rack.

Ginny glanced at the four of us models She turned to me and glanced at my frame “You look like a zero. Hmm.” Yes! I thought. Ahhh, Chinese food from the day before did not show. Yay!

She began to lay out the potential outfits for us to try on. The segment would be about how to dress simply. “Well, there are some things that you always have to have in your wardrobe. You need a black turtleneck, cream turtleneck, some black slacks, black leggings and...”

Had Ginny raided my closet? I looked over at my mother. We smiled at each other. Yes, this was excellent. I was definitely in the company of like-minded individuals.

She pulled a gray shift dress of the rack. “____, go try this on” Ah, my favorite! Shift dresses are my favorite. Taking a nod from my favorite actress Audrey Hepburn, I’ve been known to rock a timeless shift dress or two and added funky accessories to make it young and fresh.

“You can add accessories to make it fun and make it age appropriate”, Ginny said. So she proceeded to mix and match the jackets and blouses and skirts and cardigans.

The bedroom in the back, which by estimation would be a master bedroom, was used as a fitting room. In the walk in closet hung opaque patterns of all shapes. They were somewhat reminiscent of the shells that crustaceans leave behind when they shed.

I came back out from her dressing room to find the separates organized in multiple ways on the Persian carpet.

“Here, try this on”, I was told. A sherbet- orange cardigan awaited me.

Snap! Snap! One of Ginny’s friends helping us accessorize took my picture as I stood awkwardly in the foyer as I was wardrobed for the fashion show. I barely could wrap my brain around what was going on. How did I, me, end up in Ginny Hillfiger’s apartment trying on her clothes and conversing as if we went to high school together. I was overwhelmed yet strangely at home at the same time. This was my world, I was right at home with it.

I also tried on a lavender dress, but my company wasn’t wowed.

A few hour pass. Models tried on this skirt with that blouse. But what about this belt with it? Well what do you think. We had all but exhausted every possibility “So i think we’re done here?” Ginny says, satisfied with the outcome. It’s almost time to go.

“So what do you guys do with your lives?” She asked the models. One was a dental hygienist, the other a first year law student and the other worked for Real Simple Magazine. She turned to me. I’m not one for ostentatious behavior.

“‘_____’ what do you do?”

“I’m a second year college student” at a college in Virginia. I made the trip up? Yes, and I have class on Monday. My epic journey was duly noted.

In the foyer Ginny turned and faced me to say bye. “You’re so beautiful!” I smiled sheepishly and air kissed her cheek.

“See you soon! Bye guys!”

“Bye!” What just happened? No, really. What happened? One of the coolest things ever!  Ah, yes. indeed. I waited for the elevator in her outside foyer. I smiled inside, then outside. I was blissfully transported in my mind to a world of endless possibilities. New York was a pretty magical place and I couldn’t wait to return.

Next entry: Style Sightings, Double take and...So much to catch up on!




Much love,

<3 SF

Fashion Show Eve

So, first fashion show in quite some time.

And believe it or not, I have another one in exactly one week from tomorrow in New York! Crazy. So I really must sleep and recharge for the coming day. Tomorrow I'm due to be ready for hair/ makeup at 10 AM

TEN AM!!!!!


Keep in mind that my day begins at 7...sometimes 6 am. On the rare occasion that I wake out of my sleep abnormally at 4 and my body seems to think that my day starts then.

I write this as a stream of conciousness. I have to wash my hair and do something with it that describes the "Free the Beat" theme. SO, I really have to go do that. One of my good friends said she wouldn't sleep from sheer excitement. I'm filled with giddy anticipation! Goodness! And the after party should be rockin'! Oh boy, good times !

And my dress for formals is a Jessica McClintock, so it's organically made and can only drycleaned in petroleum and not chemicals? WHAT? So I'd have to take a hike all the way to Roanoke to have it cleaned!!!!??

Goodness! I have to get beautiful!

Much love,

SF

NYC Sunday: The Subway

4:50, my phone alarm goes off. Like every morning, I sprung out of bed ready for the day's adventures.

As I shower, I contemplate the magnanimity of the task that lay ahead of me. I'd been monitoring my intake closely and working out religiously every morning for an entire week. I have been preparing for this moment my entire life. In fact, I was beginning to think I was too old to model in any capacity. Twenty is pretty much mid life/over the hill in this world I was entering. I suppose that's one of the benefits of looking like i just finished middle school.

Towel dry. Now time to do my hair. That's another 10-15 minutes tops. I looked in the mirror at the young woman staring back at me. I had definitely aged since I started wearing makeup. I raised my eyebrows, one then the other. Squinting, I thought, hmm lemme brush my teeth.

 Mother and Tia are up and chatting around the kitchen table. In my spare time, now that I'm awake, I've decided to get my work done that's due in less than 24 hours.

"Mia, wake up. Do you want something to eat? Maybe that'll make you feel better?" I'd stayed up so late on Friday and Saturday and gotten up so early on Sunday, that nothing could keep me up.

Ok, as one of my guy friends said about me eating an entire chocolate chip cookie and 12 ounces of milk:

"You can really put down when you want to...".

Yes, yes. Indeed. But I couldn't even finish half of a grapefruit. Mother seemed to think it was nerves. I couldn't believe that  I could be nervous. I had been preparing for this day my entire life. How could I be undermined by my NERVES! No. I did a few more mirror pep talks and I was ready.

"Mom, omigosh, I'm riding the subway"

She explains to the present company: "This is her first Subway experience" And at this point in the musical, I break out into song and begin to sing praises to the Subway until....

THE SMELL hit me. Years of urine, feces, takeout and dirt assaulted my nostrils the moment I hit the last stair of to the underground area.

"Uuugh. The SMELL! Oh my god, it smells SO BAD!"

"Mmmhmm. I told you," Mother said patently. In all fairness, she and Aaron had warned me. It was SO SMELLY! Even as I'm recalling this experience, the smell still hasn't left my memory. Moving on.

The process of buying my metrocard was an experience that merits an entire blog post for itself. The screen was so grimy and confusing. And I was the designated young mind to buy several tickets for everyone. Oh Fun.

Next Challenge: which train to get on. Well, one thing was certain, we had to go downtown. So, I do believe we took the 3 train. Unlike in Washington D.C., where there are screens to tell you when the next train is arriving, I had to wait the 5 minutes or so, nervously anticipating the train of deliverance.

"Mreeeeaaahhh!!!SsssssCREEEEEEECCCCHHHHH!" A metallic bullet rumbled through the entire chasm of the underground chamber and came to a swift and abrupt halt beside the platform we stood on

"Frwoomp! Pshat!" The doors opened and a pleasant voice over the intercom in a loud and indiscriminate tone gave directions as to our whereabouts and the train's destination. Oh crap. I nearly bowled over the bystanders in order to get on the train before the doors closed on me. Despite the fact that I made everyone leave 3 hours early to avoid mishaps, I could not afford another 5-10 minutes on the dank platform. Ugh.

Finding a seat was easy enough. I suppose 9 a.m. on a Sunday morning is a great time to travel: no one is going anywhere. Well, that was nothing compared to the 6 train.

So we get off the 3 at 42nd Street (God help me if I get this wrong, or risk facing the wrath of those well acclimated with the transit system) then we went downstairs through a series of confusing hallways and staircases to the platform to get the 6 train. Cool. I was met with a throng of traffic.

"Frwoomp! Pshat!" The doors opened, and there was nowhere to stand. The short man at 5 feet tall was reluctant to move in toward the center of the car. If thoughts could kill, this diminutive annoyance would have evaporated. So, I did what anyone would do in my situation. I pushed him further inward so I could get on. Out of context I really sound like a bitch. I have no excuses. In my defense, I had to get on. And i finally did. He looked back plaintively as if to say " I didn't know you had it in ya?" Yep. When I want something done, I will get it done.

Again, filth. I looked at mother. She wasn't having a good time either. I tried pressing against the ceiling with the center of my outstretched palms to maintain my balance. Didn't work. I stumbled forward and back as the train screeched to a halt. A few passengers filtered off, I could reach the pole now. I wrapped my fingers around it gingerly. My palm burned with a hot vexation. Disgusting. My skin was allergic to all the germs from the millions of hands that had touched this particular pole in the past 24 hours. A hand joined mine, right above my index finger. I moved my hand down. The hand moved with me. And again. And again. By the fourth time I had had enough of the nonsense.Frustrated and annoyed from the filth I already had to endure, I took decisive action.

"STOP TOUCHING ME!" The hand's owner looked over at my mother, she shrugged. The next stop was his conveniently.

And five or so stops later I screeched above the noise:"This is our stop, c'mon!" Again, fighting to get off. I'm tougher than I look. Ha. ha!

I ascended the stairs. The sunlight bathed majestic towers grazing the sky. Morning in New York was promising, but we were still too early. I determined to find Ginny's apartment before we could do anything else. Ten thirty a.m. We had some time to kill before noon. What to do? I suppose food of some sort will have to sate our rumbling tummies. Bagels might be a good idea?

Ah, yes. This is what I like! : )

Hmm, almost there! : )

Next installment: Fittings, Fruit and An Odd Bagel Place.

Till Soon, much luv,

<3 SF