I’m new to this huge glittering city. My hubby and I have been here for roughly two months. And so far it has been a fly-by-the-seat-of-your-pants experience for us both. One day we were strolling through the city, only two weeks in, both jobless, and particularly aw-struck with the neighborhood we found ourselves in. Chelsea.
We wandered past an Anthropologie and, as usual, I couldn’t help but walk in. The store overtakes you with colors and prints and the intentional lovingly placed dishes and scarves. It feels like you just walked into your dream house. I applied for a job on a whim. And a month into working at this breathtaking store on the edge of the Chelsea Market, and I can feel myself transforming into a true Anthro girl.
I confess to have always taken an interest in fashion. What girl hasn’t? I tried to hide it, or downplay it, for whatever reason. Sometimes feeling that the kind of girl who openly expressed love for outward appearance was lesser than the intellectuals, the artists, the do-gooders. So I strived towards these latter things and tried my hardest to ignore any satisfaction I felt from wearing a pretty floral dress or being creative with my clothing. But. In the end I figure, this is a season of life so full of new things. So why shouldn’t I try out some new passions? And there’s nothing like working in a two-story extravaganza of pretty pretty things to bring out the fashionista in any girl.
So. Here I divulge my dirty secrets. Here I express my girliest whims and share with you, giant anonymous world you, my longings for the perfect springtime flat.
Let the wild rumpus begin!
More joy,
M
