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Tights YourTights

Ah yes, the burning question.  So why did I become a fashion blogger?  Truthfully, I probably have narcissistic tendencies and love to see myself on an internet stage.  And because I've found a place to put my words.  Because every comment or like on Instagram makes my heart swoon and I'm not ashamed to admit it.  Because I love playing dress up and to me clothes are more than just garbs, they are expression, they are emotion, they are art, they are identity.  Clothes are magic, clothes make the woman, and to be woman is to be powerful.  With the right outfit any frame of mind is possible, and with the right frame of mind anything is possible.

Now, let's hop into a time machine and take you back to my elementary, middle and high school days.  Back then, I had no idea how to tame my unruly, curly locks, and sadly, neither did my mother.  I didn't know how to dress with purpose, how to be me yet, and the beta version of myself had a lot to learn.

School picture day, as you might imagine, was especially nightmarish for me.  You only got one shot to get it right, just one snap and then it was on to the next poor schmuck.  Nothing was digital, everything was a mystery, and to loosely quote Gump here, it was like a box of chocolates, you never knew what you were gonna get.  Except it wasn't even chocolate, I couldn't even eat it, and it basically sucked.

In truth dear reader, photogenic I was not, and I had a collection of annual school portraits to prove it.  It was worse then opening up a report card, report cards were easy, I was a straight A student, but those picture packets, they were a different story.  I would always hold my breath and brace myself for the monstrously unflattering image that would greet me.  Et tu Brute? How could my awkward smile and my lopsided hair betray me every time?  And every time, I'd tuck my subpar packet in my bag-pack inconspicuously as I watched the other kids zealously exchange theirs like high valued baseball cards.  

I'd mope all the way home knowing that my mother would be disappointed in me once again as I brought her yet another un-framable photo.  You know, the one photo that we ordered umpteen copies of?  The thumbnail stickers, the wallet sized gems that kids would write, "have a nice summer" and KIT (keep in touch) behind, along with the portrait sized reminder of my photo failure.  They all looked the same, gaunt complexion, crooked smile, complicated hair, all convincing me time and time again that I was an ugly duckling. 

I spent all of my life dreading seeing photographs of myself more than my annual pap smear until one day I decided to take matters into my own hands.  So why did I become a fashion blogger?  Redemption perhaps?  An adult-do-over?  I just know that it feels good, nay it feels great.  And as it turns out, I am photogenic dear reader, I just never knew I had it in me.  In fact, the camera is my friend now and we spend a lot of quality time together.  

In short, the next time you find yourself running away from something, run toward it and see what develops.

With Love,
A.A.

P.S.  Don't forget to enter for a chance to win a pair of YourTights!


Comments

  1. Awe. This one almost made me cry.

    Shelbi

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Awe, thanks so reading! Things has a way of working out xo!

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