Dear Rachel Zoe

Since we're totally besties, I feel it is appropriate to tell you my feelings and occasionally blurt out the f-word. As much as I have tried, I can not stay away from your show. I don't want to watch it, because that shit makes me depressed and amazed at the same time and by brain just can't process all those feelings at the same time. 

Ever since I went to university I feel like I gave up on my dream to become a stylist one day. Like the step to academic knowledge had to override creativity and all the fun stuff that my awesome internship promised. But I miss it. I miss the rush of excitement when I am on a set, the endless opportunity I felt when preparing a shoot, the crazy schedules I barely survived and the amazing, talented  people I had the honor to work with. I miss it like crazy and I feel like nothing can give me that feeling of contentment like styling and assisting did. 

Obviously I won't let anything kill my vibe, and as you suggested I just keep on producing and producing everything until I get it right. Ever since Reckless I feel the dramatic urge to style so bad that my fingers tingle and my heart just beats out of control until I put some ish together. So that's the plan. Work until you're amazing.

Changes.

I look at my stats and I can't believe that people actually still visit my blog. whoever those people are, HIGH FIVE YO !

Since the 12th of February quite some things happened, and I guess I just needed time to deal with everything. I got tired of the whole circus of fashion and blogging and promoting and spam. So I took a break. Mostly spent my time looking at ceilings and reading books, but mostly I was preoccupied with not wearing makeup.  Originally I just thought of quitting the whole blog thing, but dude 2 years is a lot of investment. So I decided not to.

The problem is, I felt like my blog didn't "fit" me anymore. I was tired of writing about brands and taking outfit posts and I just wanted to be in the studio and work on projects I wasn't going to publish. I am nothing like the 16 year old girl who started this blog three years ago. All I knew is that I liked clothes and I liked writing. That's it. And honestly, at that age your body is effortlessly smokin' and you love yourself a little too much than you are willing to admit (Example A, look at all those little exhibitionist little teenagers on ANY social network). But then you grow up and you learn that there is more to fashion than just a pretty dress. And that between heaven and earth there is more than just fashion. In those two, now almost three years later, I have been forced to think and look at myself in the mirror, with all the embarrassing memories that pop up with it. I guess the biggest lesson in these years was that I need to be my own person. Too many times have I looked up too people or tried to be something else than myself, while, let's be honest here, I am kind of an awesome person. I guess fashion was disgusting to me for a while because it felt like I was "following" someone else, instead of making my own path. But dude, I am 19 now. It's fucking weird and I feel old. I even believe my boobs are sagging a bit.

LOL jokes my boobs are awesome

I have seen the beauty and the beast when it comes to blogging, from self-absorbed little ho's to conscious, honest writers who just want to talk about life. But most importantly, I discovered the people that are in between those things. I talked to a lot of people, asking for advice. And the wisest think alike, for their plea was the same: blog your life for you, not for others. And I guess that's what was wrong. I blogged for others, wrote what I thought my readers would like and soon it felt like my blog existed outside of me and every day more it felt like a chore.

But, I'm over that now. Sometimes I will have something to write. Sometimes I won't. But I will bore you with it nonetheless. I made this blog for me, to start with. And when it was all about discovering the fashion world it was all fun and exiting and new, and I loved it ! So that's it. This blog is mine, and I will post whatever the hell I want. And if you don't like that, drag your sweet ass to that red X up top because I am ready to rumble honey boo boo!