Fashion is both a form of escapism, one of many. We escape from reality with trashy television, short vacations to places we can't afford live full time, we live a thousand lives in novels and in the end we return to our normal lives. If you've been following my Instagram or Twitter you know I've been in New York for fashion week; visiting designer studios in Brooklyn, attending shows in Lincoln center, bumping into old friends from out of town and generally living a fashion fantasy, but after a few incredibly overheated subway rides and a more comfortable train ride I am home in Pennsylvania once again. It was a strange sort of escapism for me to be in the city. Of course it's not all a fantasy, even though I wore flats my feet were killing me at the end of a day hurrying from one thing to another, I got lost in the subway system more times than I care to count, and despite planning outfits in advance I often still felt like the least stylish person in the room...and was often the shortest. Still, life is a good different in New York, a few years ago I never would have imagined being allowed to attend fashion week or any of the madness that goes along with it. And at the end of the week it's all over; my carriage becomes a pumpkin, my pretty "gowns" (and hair) so commonplace in New York transforms into something out of place and the fairy tale ends. At least temporarily. Perhaps one day I'll figure out how to engage in fashion on a more active and regular basis offline aside from putting clothes on my back. I need to practice my photography on other subjects, create more, and so on. "They" always say you should try to turn the hobbies you escape to in your occupation. Strive, strive, strive. And hope things align to visit fashion week next season too.
Outfit details:
thrifted jacket (similar here)
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