Here I am, sitting in my new, and long-awaited apartment in Bed-Stuy, feeling gosh darn reflective; I’ve experienced a lot of firsts in these past few months, many not by choice. Before I begin the next chapter in life, and on this site, I need a bit of written closure. This type of post is new for T(F)H, so feel free to scroll past the catharsis, although I hope some of you find it relatable. Full disclosure: shit’s about to get emo.
Summer 2014 has been exhaustingly nomadic. What I assumed would be a few weeks of transience became months of multi-state couch-surfing, living somewhere between start and finish, miserably incomplete. After packing my life away back in April (including the best of my summer wardrobe), my spirited expectations of a quick transition were shattered by a relentless market. I lost place after perfect place, dragging my feet back to an overweight suitcase slumped on someone else’s floor. Without a solid sense of security, or the ability to make concrete plans, I felt useless, as if there was no place for me – neither physically nor spiritually. Consequently, I’ve been utterly uninspired, (fashion)cashed, if you will, which is why I’ve stepped away from T(F)H all this time. I don’t feel like I deserve you. SO MANY FEELS.
Despite my descent into madness, friends accepted me with open arms and pantries. After every setback, they graciously offered extended stays. The rosé flowed as I gained perspective. I would not have survived without them, as well as my parents’ endless generosity and understanding. These wonderful humans remind me that no matter where I sleep, I am so fucking blessed. But even the happiest camper can get homesick. For a girl who thrives on routine, I was drowning in different, and it was not chic.
Then, just this month, I landed the perfect Brooklyn loft. My stuff is unpacked and I have never been more pleased with my flatware. Finally, I can do all the embarrassing things you do in the comfort of your own home (did toilet paper get softer?). I have my own bed and wifi, but most importantly, I have a space that inspires me, where I can produce quality content that I feel proud to share. BRB while I cry-dive into a pile of forgotten tees and thai delivery. For real though, T(F)H IS BACK!