It still feels slightly shallow and vapid (what a great word!) to say I write a fashion blog. I guess it's probably more of a lifestyle blog. I hardly consider myself to be up on all the newest or craziest fashions. I think it is fun for people to see what other people wear ( I mean that's why I read the 20 or so fashion blogs that I love so much), but I think I really shine when I get to write.
In high school I was blessed with so many wonderful English teachers- Mrs. Raughton, Mrs. Lawley, Mrs. Brown, Mrs. Buzbee- each recognizing the gift within me, even when I didn't believe in myself. They put their necks out on the line for me time and time again- encouraging, praising, naming me editor, writing letters of recommendation, mentoring, and so on. Everyone should be so blessed to feel so special.
I remember for high school graduation, Mrs. Lawley gave me a Waterman pen, the creme de la creme of writing utensils, for the the next "chapter" of my life. I never used the pen. I was saving it for a special occasion. The only time I remember using it was to have one of my favorite authors autograph a book for me. I remember telling him how much I loved writing and how I wanted to be a writer myself.
I held my breath as he signed the book, and waited until I was a good distance away to open the book and read the inscription. "To the best writer I've never read... yet."
Somewhere along the way, life got in the way of dreams. Bills had to be paid. Pharmacy paid better than newspaper. I struggled to break into writing, but as the years passed, the dream became more and more distant and unattainable. I always imagined at this point in my life I'd be a features writer for Mademoiselle (R.I.P my most favorite magazine EVER). But sometimes life has other plans. To be continued....