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When you like fashion it is kind of yikes--but that's okay


Strangely, I remember the exact moment I decided I wanted to be an "expert" in fashion. I was sitting on the porch of my Indiana home with my mother, and I was probably 10 or 11. She was flipping through a Neiman Marcus catalogue, as was her custom in the afternoons, and I was sitting next to her, intrigued. She began naming off all the brands of glossy leather bags she wanted: Kooba, Michael Kors, Marc Jacobs. This was evidently impressive to 11-year-old me. I want to know all the names of the brands, too. Around this same time, I got a subscription to Teen Vogue (the only magazine I have ever subscribed to) and thus began my journey into the treacherous world of fashion.

It's funny that this extremely important moment in my life--the moment I decided to devote myself entirely to an industry and a style of living--was based on such a superficial interest. Of course, when you're 11 it's not like you'll be all, "Hmm, I really appreciate the artistic direction and concept behind this Marc Jacobs bag, it seems as if he's making a statement with his leather goods this season!" But like, still. Part of me has always been ashamed of not having "purer" intentions with fashion. What "purer" intentions would be, I have no idea.

Part of me is angry at 11-year-old me, too. Why couldn't she have been flipping through a gardening catalogue, or looking at Surrealist art, or admiring those boring black-and-white Ansel Adams mountain pictures? Why, for the love of god, did I decide I wanted to be a slave to fashion? Because as far as art forms and creative expression goes, fashion can tend to leave a bad taste in people's mouth. When you scream "I Like Fashion !" from the rooftops people do not really respect you that much. Partly because screaming from the rooftops isn't a really socially acceptable thing, and partly because fashion is supposed to be an evil, superficial industry built upon making men and women feel bad about themselves so they buy more sweatshop-produced products. Also if you like fashion, you're evil and superficial too, because you care so much about appearance, and you are obviously very stupid and full of yourself, and how dare you contribute to this consumerist machine! How DARE you!!

These were the thoughts that circulated in my brain for the past couple of years. Close friends of mine in college were not even aware that I seriously liked fashion because I basically refused to talk about it, in fear of being judged. You don't wanna be that dick at the party who's all, "I have wanted a pair of Margiela Tabi boots since I was 13". In fact, liking fashion is sort of a double-edged sword: you look pretentious for knowing what Margiela Tabi boots are, and you seem more superficial for caring about a very specific type of footwear made by Margiela. Because of these god-forsaken boots, you are both a snob and an airhead.

Moving past the negative social implications, it's a chore to like fashion personally, too, because it promotes an aforementioned cycle of consumerism and guilt. Every season, every new product that launches onto the market could be something I covet, which is exhausting--it takes a lot of energy to constantly want to buy things and be disappointed when you can't. I will always spend way too much money on stupid shoes I don't need, and fall prey to a new trend, no matter how many times I assure myself wide-legged cropped jeans will be stylish forever. With other types of creative expression, of course, this holds true as well: there's always gonna be a new groovy type of paintbrush, a new fancy camera, a more efficient type of fertilizer (probably? I seriously have no clue about gardening). But with fashion it's ubiquitous, because it's the core of the industry. Most paintings doesn't exist to be sold, but virtually all articles of clothing are. Clothes are meant to be bought, to be worn; they can be used as wearable cultural and social statements. Fashion is inherently tied to consumerism and capitalism, and thus when you devote yourself to it it's very, very difficult to escape exploitation and waste.

But in spite of all these drawbacks, and in spite of the years I tried to not care about fashion and devoted myself to more "worthy" pursuits, I can now freely say: I love it, god damnit. I love fashion. I love clothes. I won't apologize for it, and I'm tired of feeling ashamed or lesser than my other artistic friends just becauce I really dig Balenciaga satin slingbacks. Now that it's becoming more and more possible to enjoy fashion in an ethical way, what with the numerous ethically-produced clothing companies cropping up everywhere, it's easier to satisfy my conscience on the capitalist and consumerist scale. Most importantly, however, I (and any other fashionably-inclined reader) need to assert the fact that fashion isn't just for superficial assholes. I am smart and not an asshole and I love fashion! We do exist! Not every person in the fashion industry is an evil clone of Meryl Streep in The Devil Wears Prada. Lots of industry people are incredibly smart, well-spoken, kind, and care about social issues (to name a few).

Although I do wonder what would've happened if 11-year-old me decided to become an expert in ceramics, I've finally stopped being annoyed at her for getting into fashion. Now I just have to find a rooftop to scream that from.

Collage photos clockwise from left: me as a lil FASHUNISTA at age 8, me now, Gucci, Delpozo, Prada, Baleciaga, Balenciaga again, still from The Devil Wears Prada and Margiela Tabi boots.

Outfit update from a human who is supposed to be on hiatus


Does anyone find it DEEPLY ironic that I'm posting on this blog while studying abroad, like, 5000000x more than when I'm in America??? For someone who is on hiatus, I am truly terrible at being on hiatus. I guess the quick explanation for all the recent posting is that my classes here are really easy / nonexistent, and I have a LOT of free time, like, a LOT, like bought a cookbook and can now make a kickass stovetop mac and cheese. Now imagine what I could do if I had free reign of my closet back home. Sigh.

I know I just posted like, a couple days ago (or was it a week? I honestly have no clue) about winter and being uninspired. Obviously when it's this cold, my outfits don't really vary either, because who has the time and energy to look good when it's this damn cold?? But I found this quick fix this morning: wear a singular winter item of clothing over your spring stuff (as demonstrated above). See, you're still warm, but you're hoping to tempt the weather through your clothes into becoming 20 degrees hotter and prettier. (You can tell everything besides the dress are my spring/summer clothes -- because WHOMST would wear sweet light pastels in winter, I ask you.) Coincidentally I've also been listening to my spring Spotify playlist nonstop the past couple days. But has the snow melted yet? Nope. So rude.

Top: Vintage
Dress: Zara
Jeans: Zara
Coat: Vintage (found it on Brick Lane in London, bless)
Shoes: Nike

Once again Thank You ThANK YOU to Iman for these pictures, she's the best human tripod ever.

On being a winter bummer


Like most normal humans, I find winter to be a period of time where I have less motivation or inspiration than summer -- because like, less vitamin D and cold and snow and more cold, blah blah. We've all heard this many times before. This is a concept everyone on the Internet talks about during the winter. January is a particularly desolate time, since after New Year's you're just left contemplating your own existential dread that comes with the passing of time! Woohoo, winter.

But February and March! Idk, I used to really hate them because they were just two more Januarys, but recently I've started to like them. Every year around mid-February I start to get inspired by the little bits of spring peeping through the freezing cold, and the transition between the two seasons can actually result in some really nice light and color palettes. And yeah, those color palettes might be washed out pastels and black, which totally indicates seasonal affective disorder (in my own weird brain, that is), but still. I'll take it.

If anyone cares about my very correct and sage advice on beating the winter blues: around this time of year I'm tired of being bored and uninspired so I start to actively seek out things that will inspire me. During the other seasons I don't have to make an effort, really, but in winter it really helps if I consciously look for inspiration (on the Internet, in books, in a funky new album, etc).  So for anyone else who might be feeling -Bummed- or uninspired, here's a comprehensive list of things that have gotten me through this winter as far as fashun, books, movies, photos and music, and hopefully they can help you too!

1. All the amazing inspiration from NYFW!! Seriously, these ladiez and gentz know how to DRESS. I don't much care about trends, but I like seeing the new ways to wear all sorts of colors and textures that people are trying out. Also, yeah, I totally want to attend a fashion week one day, so it's fun to imagine what I would wear to a Maryam Nassir Zadeh show.

2. The Queen Is Dead by The Smiths -- ok, don't hate me for being 32 years late on this one. Personal favorites include "Unlovable", "Cemetry Gates" and of course the quintissential "There Is a Light That Never Goes Out".

3. Photos by Zahid Jiwa (specifically "American Apparent") and the Posternaks (they just did a campaign for Jil Sander, eek).

4. Slouching Towards Bethlehem by Joan Didion, because I saw the Netflix documentary about her and sort of became creepy obsessed, and she states things so beautifully and quietly and matter-of-factly. Once again, very late on this one.

5. Everything Paloma Wool has ever done.

6. Lady Bird because it warmed my dead cold heart, and was also SO relatable in terms of being a teen and going to Catholic school, which are two things that I have experienced before. Also Timothée Chalamet plays a character in it who reminds me of every boy I tried to sleep with when I was 18.

7. There's No Space Left in C# Minor by Margaret Zhang -- stunning visuals, and it helps that I love both Margaret Zhang and Chopin. Margaret is slightly older than me (maybe by a year?) but she's one of the most impressive people in the fashion industry. Basically if she shat on a plate I would be really wowed by her artistic direction and composition of said shit.

I hope this helps anyone who is bored and sad and inspiration-less. Now if you need me, I have a date with a 3000-word paper on eighteenth century smut poems. Carry on.

To die by your side is such a heavenly way to die

Happy Valentine's Day, lovers!! Normally I wouldn't make a post for this specific holiday because I'm sort of a pessimistic bitter single person, but I really like pink and red together, if you weren't already aware. Also it was part of my New Year's resolution to be less of a total bummer when it comes to love/romance/etc., so I'm trying to embrace the "" Valentine Spirit "". 

I used to hate Valentine's Day, and when I say "used to",  you must understand that this is a very recent development of not hating it. Like, literally a year ago today, I was complaining about Valentine's Day loudly to anyone who would listen in my neuroscience class.  "It's so pointless," I moaned, "it's just created by evil companies who keep feeding us this idea that buying things for someone means you love them, and it supports the consumerist and capitalist hellscape that is America." To everyone listening to this rant, however, it translated to "I Am A Bitter Single Person Who Knows A Lot of Smart-Sounding Buzzwords!" (Which, honestly, sums me up pretty well.) The girl who sat behind me (who's name is Tovah, if you're reading this HI TOVAH) piped up: "I love Valentine's Day. Yes, I have a boyfriend, but there are so many other people in my life that I love -- my family, my friends. You don't have to be in a relationship to celebrate the people that you love!"

Now, 2017 Meagan was so not down with this hippie-dippy, lovey-dovey-type of shit. And she probably grumbled something indistinct under her breath and continued to hate Valentine's Day. But 2018 Meagan is embracing it, goddamnit. This year I am totally prepared to feel happy and loved and cherished by the people in my life, and express my love for them too. How does one express love to others without contributing to the consumerist and capitalist hellscape that is America, you might ask? Well, you could choose not to give a shit and buy some chocolates anyways, because like, we can't all be ethical saints year-round. Or, you could do what I'm gonna do, and make Molly Yeh's annual almond Valentine's Day cake. Or you could make some homemade valentines, or something else cutesy and DIY if you are willing to be totally granola like I inevitably will be. The least you can do is wear red and pink together, because it's the cutest color combo of. all. time.

Now enjoy this picture of me wearing underwear outside of my clothes, in the name of loooove. (I also added a cheesy sparkle clipart because I secretly adore them.) Happy V-Day, tell someone you love them today!!♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Shirt: Zara
Dress: Vintage
Shoes: Also Zara, oops.

(Also thanks to my friend Iman for this very intense photo of me!)

Why fashion blogging kinda sucks, and why I'm still here

Okay these pics has nothing to do with the post but I like them and they're kinda moody

"There must be something worthier of my time and energy than this, there must be..."

This ultra-dramatic quote is from my journal, written late last fall. It was after an exhausting day of scrolling and posting and stalking those who had more expensive clothes than me -- a day of just feeling inadequate, in general. Even those who don't have ~fashion blogs~ can relate. In fact, I'm sure that like, 99.9% of the people on this planet who have social media can relate. Everywhere, like literally everywhere, there are scary articles about how social media could be causing millennials to have severe anxiety and how social media usage and depression are positively correlated (although, as every Psych professor has ever told me: correlation does not equal causation). In fact, for simplicity, let me just link all of the Google Scholar results for "social media and depression".  You may peruse to your heart's content.

So I guess the main question here is : why am I still doing this Promoting Myself On Social Media And The Internet type of shit? And I've been doing it for like, almost 8 years. I must be a masochist or something, right? Even when I was 13, I was feeling shitty about my fashion blog, comparing myself obsessively to girls my age who were living all my dreams. What's the point? After years and years of comparison and self-criticism, I asked myself this same question and ultimately deleted my old blog completely. But here I am again.
I just think this comparison is hilarious: me in 2013 (as a freshman in high school!!) vs. me like 2 days ago

Moving aside the fact that I am sincerely, totally, completely a crazy person who makes questionable decisions regarding her mental health sometimes, I'm really glad I decided to come back and do this whole blogging thing again. And yeah, some days it's super hard going onto Instagram and comparing oneself to a butt-ton of people who own 500% more Chanel than me, but as a wise 21-year-old I appreciate blogging a lot more than I did as a 13-year-old. I see more merit in sharing my ideas and photos and clothes, even if basically no one cares. Like, you don't have to be the daughter of a celebrity with 40000 million Instagram followers to make worthy content.  My content is worthy! And it's worthy because I assign it worth by myself, not by getting worth and validation from others. I'm really proud of my outfits, my photos and the things I write. And honestly, that's all that fucking matters.

I know I'm sort of beating a dead horse here, but this post is as much of a reminder to myself as it is to the 4 people reading this: make stuff anyways. I have 150 followers on my Instagram, but I'm still putting together outfits, because I just really, really love being a huge narcissist with a bunch of pictures of myself STUNTING so I can use them to catfish people on Craigslist. And no matter how many followers I do (or don't) have, that dedication (to catfishing) (also fashion) will never change. 
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