Between clothes lines and work, there’s an ever-so microscopic push and pull, inclusive of pure chaos and care. It seems as if these last few months have stretched into years. That is until I truly think about the last few years, and even the ones that go way back. And in that event, when it is so thick, I am grateful.
I wish it came a bit easier, the gratefulness. But in truth, the above is more frequent than I’d like to admit. As I text with friends who seem to all agree, it’s mayhem and it’s wonder, holding on and looking forward and backwards at once.
A few weeks ago, I got to test out my capacity for queasy stomachs, inner child adventures, fashion, and another kind of equilibrium with Gucci and The Real Real. I smiled and kicked my legs while my kids sent jealous voice notes, while I counted the minutes back across state lines close to their loud and tiny bodies in our lopsided apartment, once again.
A few days ago the campaign was released and River marveled at my glasses and wondered why I didn’t bring the shoes home “to share.” And I mostly thought about a time when she could not yet speak and I spent days aligning clothes and hope and preaching the word of vintage, consignment, and yes, some sort of parenting balance while freelancing. There it was again, the gratefulness. It was so thick. You know?
I am not sure what this says about me, that I find satisfaction in my own recognition at times. I wonder—especially last night—as I watched Kamala Harris take on Pence and stand up for herself and her own iconic position on that stage last night, that both sides of the coin always need to exist. There’s the side that celebrates you whenever you need to, between that thickness. And there’s the side that needs to celebrate you in defense of you. As a Black woman (and in Kamala’s case, a WOC) this is especially true.
I digress, because this post is about fashion. While this season of life may feel upended for so many, and many of you and even me too, are out there floating between several things we couldn’t have seen coming years ago while staying afloat, I wanted to celebrate that circulatory life in a sense. Maybe things back then or even now don’t feel or seem clear, and you find yourself yelling into an abyss (or your computer). But for some reason, somehow, we are here. You were there, then. And things move and people have awakenings, start new things, and there’s a newness to thinking creatively and critically.
A simple Thursday note to say, wherever you are or whatever you wear, and whatever you do, is worth the recognition. Your feelings?