*collage by me
Last week as I casually browsed the web between e-mails I found a number of articles appearing in all of my news feeds informing me of American Apparel’s decision to fire CEO Dov Charney. It was very good news. Back in college one of my favorite places to shop for basics was American Apparel. Their u-back fitted jersey dress was a perfect complement to my thrifted skirts and beat-up sandals in summer and wonderful layering piece in the fall and winter. The advertisements for the company made me uncomfortable though. Then articles started to surface about the CEO, Dov Charney, and his alleged icki-ness. Bad ads and “ick factor” was one thing, but when actual lawsuits were filed against him by former employees and he infamously confirmed many of the stories in an interview I felt convicted. I went on an American Apparel shopping ban. I didn’t burn my old pieces, but I didn’t buy any new ones from the company unless I stumbled across something at a thrift store.

As a full-time student and part-time cashier the money I had spent at AA had never been much; my ban left the company with maybe $40 less a month. A few friends questioned “the point” of it all. What good did my shopping ban do in the end? The company wasn’t hurting from my lack of endorsement. It reminded me of arguments friends had with people who “wasted” their votes on political candidates that did not represent either party. But if that candidate represented your views best, how was the vote wasted? Do I think that my personal ban from shopping AA helped make this happen? Not really. But other people like me also were disgusted by AA’s ads and the numerous allegations against Charney. They wrote articles, they told their friends, some stopped shopping there as well. More people felt safe coming forward with their stories and who knows what the straw that broke the camel’s back was, but in the end facing some big financial issues and burdened by Charney’s multiple law suits the company finally fired him.

No matter how insignificant my part in the whole story is, it feels like victory. Of course there is more work to do—more magazines that need to stop working with Terry Richardson and clothing manufacturing is often produced in unsafe working conditions for pitiful wages—and there won’t always be victories. But in the end I don’t think we should choose to make stands (no matter how small) only when they promise to make a difference. We make a stand because we want to be the sort of people who care. I try speak up when I hear friends around me say something offensive because at the end of the night I can go to bed knowing I tried. We should choose our actions not for some distant desired result, but for the immediate satisfaction of doing what we think is right. When you look back on history often the people who started a revolution didn’t wake up in the morning thinking of how they would change history forever, but rather reached a point where they decided they were going to do something that day.

And sometimes we don’t get the desired results, but we do make a difference. When you perform a random act of kindness for a stranger, like running a block to return a toy a child had dropped to a mother who didn’t notice, the mother might be too distracted and busy to register your kindness. But who is to stay someone else on that street might not observe your act and feel convicted to pass it along? Our actions move like ripples through water and sometimes we can only observe the first wave while our decisions continue to affect those who were never in our line-of-vision. Here's another way to think of it: when you help a friend move from one apartment to another do you do it because your friend will now owe you/shower you with gratitude or do you do it because you're friends and that is what friends do? We do good things because we want to be good people.

I don’t mean to imply in any way in this post that I am some perfect social justice warrior who spends her day fighting socio-political battles on the streets—far from it! I do however try to be conscious of my actions and words. When I feel convicted, I try to act—focusing on my choices not the results they will or won’t achieve. Sometimes what you do or say won't change anything in an obvious or observable way, but every once in awhile you will be lucky enough to see a discernible difference in the world...

*my collage
A lot of time we have this perception that people who we admire (stylistically) always look that good--there was no ugly duckling stage, there are no bags under the eyes in the morning. This is usually false. Celebrities spend hours in hair and makeup before they walk a red carpet. Even your best friend who can roll out of bed throw on some mascara and whatever clothes that are lying on her floor and look fantastic still spent awhile picking out that random assortment of clothes, selecting her low-maintence hair style which involves layers, low lights and highlights, and goes to bed every night after a strict skin regime she learned from her mother in her formative years. It's just one illustration of the idea: swans aren't made overnight. But while we usually know this to be true, we don't always talk about the process of becoming. How do you find your personal style? How do you get comfortable in the clothes you like on others? How long does it take? Today's post was sparked by a recent question I received, because as a lot of people know figuring out my style and being comfortable in my own skin was definitely not an overnight or easy sensation for me!

Part of being photogenic is being comfortable in front of the camera. Part of looking good in your clothes is being comfortable in them. But these sorts of things rarely happen overnight. I've written a little on this topic before, like my tip of trying on thing at a time when developing personal style or learning to listen to your inner voice and stop hearing others when you're experimenting with style. But there are numerous other little tricks or practices I went through when figuring out my own style. Even when I figured out how I wanted to look it still took years to gradually change my wardrobe from jeans and tee shirts to an extensive collection of dresses I feel comfortable throwing on. Since I didn't start wearing makeup until my senior year of high school it took awhile to learn how to apply eyeliner and feel comfortable in lipstick. It might just seem like a small swipe of red lipstick to a stranger, but to someone un-used to it red lipstick can feel like wearing a neon sign on your face.

I spent months watching French New Wave films and couldn't get over Anna Karina's face in A Woman Is A Woman; I wanted blue eye shadow, winged eyeliner, and scarlet lips but felt like a clown when I wore any of those things alone let alone combined. To get comfortable in vivid red lipstick in a sea of nude lips, I would apply my lipstick an hour before I left my dorm room. By the time I walked out the door I had usually forgotten it was on or gotten more comfortable with the feeling of it on my lips (sort of like how you learn to sit different with skirts than jeans). I did the same thing when I started to wear heels--I always wore them around the house before I wore them out; I find when I'm cooking is the best time to get comfortable in them because there are always so many steps back and forth between cabinets and the fridge and oven and heels help you reach things on the top shelves! Feel uncomfortable in dresses? Wear bike shorts underneath in case you don't always "sit like lady" (because who does?).

I also feel developing a personal style is a constant process. What clothes we feel comfortable in changes over time, how we want to look progresses through the years. Some days I still feel self-conscious wearing red lipstick (and I still get it on my teeth, ugh) and some days dresses I thought I'd be wearing for years suddenly feel too immature to wear. I still admire Anna Karina's style and can't imagine a day without winged eyeliner, but my preferences for shoes are shifting from chunky heels to cleaner lines. If our clothes are not just pieces of fabric we use to cover our nakedness but reflections of our desires and interests then the clothes we gravitate to will be constantly changing as we age and our interests develop because we are always becoming.

As an introvert one of the most important thing to realize is the immense gap between how you perceive yourself and how others perceive you. Most introverts are incredibly introspective; we analyze situations and ourselves and are usually over-aware of our shortcomings. When I start to blush I can feel the heat rising in my body before my cheeks pink all while my mind is mentally screaming over the stupidity of what I just said or my inability to respond to something quipped at me. However, the other person in the room probably can't notice my rising color in the dim light and they probably don't think my statement was the most idiotic thing they ever heard or noticed any momentary lapse in conversation. Sometimes when you remember that not everyone is mentally critiquing your every move you start to loosen up--you crack jokes and make strangers laugh, you move on past innocent blunders and at the end of the night people don't remember you as the quietest girl in the room but rather some other random observation that stood out to them.

It's also important to remember that while we live in a society that praises extroversion and every movie or song seems to focus on being the "life of the party" to have fun, introversion is not a bad word and if you find it more fun to quietly play guitar in the corner at a party, or get into deep conversations with one or two people instead of circulating is perfectly ok. Half of the time we miss out on enjoying ourselves because if the gap between what we think we should be doing and what we actually enjoy. My favorite parts of a party is the preparation beforehand and the download after. I love the ritual of selecting my clothes, putting them on and touching up my makeup, and doing the same for my house--cleaning up a bit or adding small decorative touches before people arrive. Then once the evening is over, sitting around with your fellow hosts or driving home with your friend you share moments you found funny, laugh and complain about how you got food on your dress, and generally relive the best moments of the night. It's not the gone-wild-incriminating-pictures-on-facebook-my-house-is-trashed view of parties you might get from popular cultures, but I'm having fun. Since I've always been invited again and never have trouble getting people to come to my parties, it's safe to say I'm not the only one having fun.

So, even if you're the quiet one at the party, that doesn't mean you shouldn't go out, or that your company is less valuable than anyone else's. If you want to go out this holiday season to events ranging from Friendsgiving to work parties to random gift exchanges and NYE (despite any social anxiety misgivings): go out. Aside from everything else--you're allowed to leave as early if you want. 

Being female means living in a world where you're damned if you do and damned if you don't. This statement applies to many instances across the board, but on my mind today is being "a cliche." If you act as if your interests are unique and so different from all of your friends you are diagnosed as suffering from "special snowflake syndrome" (which I do believe exists to a degree). However, if you happen to engage in more popular interests then you've become a cliche. Do you enjoy Audrey Hepburn films? Of course. Apparently all of your interests must be run through a machine that sorts out the too obscure from too well known and hands you the nice middling interests at the end that places you in a safe camp where no one can complain that you're trying too hard to be different or one of the mindless drones.

The definitions are a cliche are: a trite or overused expression, or a person or character whose behavior is predictable or superficial. Being predictable isn't necessarily an insult, but treating an interest because it is common as if is automatically superficial, is an insult. Treating shared interests between women as "cliches" encourages competition between women instead of friendship and makes young women think it's somehow better to be unlike other young women. While we have stereotypes for jocks I've never heard someone called a cliche for liking baseball or football; I've never heard it's a cliche to love fried food or going to the beach during the summer. Can you imagine if we turned every popular activity or interest into a cliche? Yet, young women who enjoy posters of the eiffel tower, Starbucks, and selfies with fall leaves are just so typical. It's not wrong to be different--to have more male friends than female ones or find black and white films boring, and to hate pumpkin spice lattes or generally feel many of your peers "don't get you." The last thing is merely part of life and perhaps and indication you need to expand your friend group. However, it is wrong to think that your different interests somehow render you superior.

I get the pull to align yourself with the different; as a fashion blogger I don't really want to wear the same dress ten other bloggers are wearing. But while trends annoy me I feel it is sillier to dislike something merely because it is popular than to admit to enjoying something others also like. A lot of people being fond of something can be an indication of quality--I'm more likely to stop at an unfamiliar restaurant if the parking lot outside of it is full or if I can see people at the tables inside, if the locals eat there it's pretty trustworthy. Why can't we apply this same reasoning to fashion trends, movie stars, or anything else? People get tired of hearing college girls hanging up a poster of Audrey Hepbrun from Breakfast At Tiffany's on their walls, but they overlook the other admirable qualities of that past starlet which make her a good role model--someone who worked tirelessly as a humanitarian and is quoted as saying "for beautiful eyes look for the good in others" is hardly an icon to be ashamed of.

This all reminds me of a quote by Ira Glass, "I don’t believe in guilty pleasures, I only believe in pleasures. People who call reading detective fiction or eating dessert a guilty pleasure make me want to puke. Pedophilia is a pleasure a person should have guilt about. Not chocolate." I try to think of that quote when I see judging eyes rolls at my admiration for Sofia Coppola films or even fashion--it's wonderful that other women enjoy what I also enjoy and their participation with my hobby or interest doesn't diminish my relationship with those things. I want us to like the same things. Good things are worth sharing.

*my favorite selfie
Lately there's been a lot about selfies online; selfie being the term for a casual self portrait often snapped with a camera phone. How will we be remembered as a "selfie generation" and then a defense of selfies from various artistic perspectives; ie self portraits have always existed only now there is greater availability to the production of said portraits via computer and camera phones. In a way, we are removing portraits from an elitist position--instead of way back in the day needing the funds to commission a portrait or paint one, or the financial means to pay for a session with a photographer or invest in a nice camera, literally anyone can document themselves with electronics they already possess. The urge for a portrait has always existed, it's just so much easier now.
My biggest questions for those anti-selfie is "why does someone else taking your picture making it a valid?" and "since when did self portraits deserve a bad reputation?" Now, let's first acknowledge there's a huge range of quality in self portraits. Nearly every picture I've posted on the blog in the past six years is a self portrait, but since they are outdoors and I use a self-timer few people call them "selfies." Yet, essentially they are. When we talk about self portraits by Van Gogh or Frida Khalo we are once again talking about a different level of quality than someone snapped their own picture in a dressing room with "duck face." In some ways it is hard to compare a time-consuming painting that takes days, not to mention prior sketches to decide on angle, color, and composition, and a mediocre picture snapped without more sensitive consideration that takes seconds.
However, I find the critique often goes back to the inherent narcissism in self-portraits rather than a question of quality. People aren't writing articles about how today's selfies lack all appreciation of the 'rule of thirds' and how the subjects often fail to "capture the light" but instead focus on how self-absorbed the subject must be. Even though I like the creative aspects of composing a shot and finding a beautiful location to feature in a post, apparently it's vain to take a picture of yourself on a regular basis. Even though this is a huge source of income for me and I essentially do the same job of a photographer, stylist, and model for a lookbook or magazine (by myself), my images are less valid than those of a professional model who isn't accused of vanity to do her job. (This isn't a defensive post because I've been accused of being vain, I merely find it easiest to discuss a subject when I can put it on a personal level and use "I" and "me" terms rather than hypotheticals.) I find that concept slightly baffling when I actually prefer the creative control of shooting myself over modeling for someone else--I find the whole experience less satisfying when I'm just posing for a friend or even on rare occasions a professional, because I don't get to engage my artistic side. I've also seen a number of personal style bloggers transition into photographers or stylists, shooting weddings or even being hired in the fashion industry for projects and editorials.
Sometimes the drive for self-portraits is a drive for practice. How many selfies show off new DIY nails or makeup techniques; how many fashion bloggers snap pictures of themselves because they don't have access to models to style or photograph? Self portraits are easier in terms of the fact your body is always available to you; this is also a common practice dating back to early paintings--even in the 1400s you see inserted self-portraits, or the artists hidden as "extras" in large scenes, like Piero della Francesca in Resurrection or Masaccio in frescoes of a chapel. This could be because you are limited by your region or your finances or your skill set and sometimes the best practice (and means of getting your passions and name "out there") is through trying those styles on your own body and photographing it either through the complicated method of a camera, tripod, and remote/timer or simplistic style of a mirror shot with your iPhone.
I suppose in many ways I belong to the "in defense of selfies" camp, hardly surprising considering my blog, but my biggest crux with the naysayers isn't that I think selfies are inherently worthwhile and "it's our camera phone we can do what we want," but the lack of nuanced critique for this generation and selfies. People might stereotype models, but no one claims they're vain for waking up and getting photographed for a living. No one seems interested in the fact that self portraits have always existed and the fact it's more commonplace today might be as much about accessibility rather than a shift in priorities. And there is no attention paid to the valid use of selfies as a creative outlet or form of practice for various skill sets. So while not every selfie is a work of art, the act of self portraiture is completely valid.