Literature, poetry and NYFW

Occasionally I step aside, take a deep breath, and frantically create diagrams of how my life could possibly fit together in a single career. IMPOSSIBLE.

One side of Jess = writer, reader of classic literature, annoyingly excessive editor of copy, re-writer of every line, wear the same crisp white T-shirt and black slacks to work with matching tortoise-shell glasses to focus on work, take no prisoners, work hard, drink coffee, stay up late, chocolate croissants in the morn. Screw cigarettes only because it's 2013 and that's gross, but otherwise would be totally chic.

Side two = naturalist hippie, scraping shins on overgrown sagebrush while I chasing Maxdog through high desert, no need to shower, no need for a serious job, journaling and keeping extensive sketchbooks chronicling each and every petal in each "Y" of the nude buckwheat, sleeping under stars and loving each sunrise because it's fresh and made just for me. Coffee? Sure. Always with coffee.

Side three = social marketing business owner, hip to the times (except when I say shit like that), constantly stressing about advancing skills in graphic design, web design, marketing design, product design, designing myself to fit life in the wiz lane. iPhone, Mac, noise-cancelling headphones always in tow with hip tunes to tune out life. Coffee black and in tiny cups that don't do anyone ANY good. But money makin' and HIP AS SHIT. Or not. Because this world won't let that happen.

Oh. And then there is New York Fashion Week. I have a strange obsession with NYFW. Maybe because I never had a lot of girlfriends growing up (or now). Or maybe because fashionistas getting along long enough to decide how each of the three sides of me are going to dress for the following season befuddles me.

Either way, pretty colors and spot-on social media make me generally stare for long periods of time. And once my mom told me that my "colors" were fall, and it's the fall NYFW, which means everything should match my skin tone. Or so they want me to believe.

Anyway, in case you're into fashion as marginally(OBSESSIVELY FOR ONE WEEK) as I am, there are a few beauts you simply must check out dahhhling.

fashionsquad.com  I like this one because once every few months, the girl in it smiles and you feel really special that day.

abeautifulmess.com This blog, managed by two sisters, passed muster due to the fact that I would wear almost nothing that they style, but yet I still follow it daily. Additionally, they always make killer recipes that I can't eat (glute- and lactard unfriendly), but make my mouth drip at lunchtime. Cheers to that.

manrepeller.com Um, just check it out. You'll spend your first few visits trying to figure out if she is serious or not. Is she? I'm not telling (she is and Vogue thinks it's cool).

whowhatwear.com I feel grown-up and super in-the-loop when I spend #$%@ hours looking at their themed slideshows with links to shopping. Poor, but grown-up.

withlovefromkat.com Kat reminds me of my sister Sarah, so I look at this blog and remember when we used to live together and she always looked cuter than me, but then I could later steal her clothes since I paid rent on the closet she kept them in. I just ended a sentence in a preposition. It's getting late. One more...

cheetahisthenewblack.com First of all: cheetah is NOT the new black. Nothing will ever be the new black except more black. Especially animal print, which we will all look back at and say "wow, that's almost as bad as the early '90s!" Despite this minor pitfall, and the fact that I pretty much don't really like her styling personally, I've come to appreciate this blogger's writing style (she actually ... writes ... sometimes. Shhh don't tell!), and the fact that she rocks some pretty ugly stuff, yet has a super great time livin' it up with "her man" in New York City. I just really want to be her friend, is the LATS of it.


Oh. And as for the short stories and poetry I referenced earlier: my friends (and I, marginally) publish thebaconreview.com monthly. It is far classier than the classiest of the fashion-weekers, and way hipper. Plus, you don't have to shower off the feeling of wasted time post reading.