Sunday, 21 September 2014

My First Love

Everyone in life can recall the story of their first love. For me, my first love wasn’t a person, but a place New York City.
Image: aganderson
There’s no place even close in America when it comes to entertainment, food, culture, architecture, and of course fashion. Growing up in Kentucky, I was always obsessed with the Big Apple. I was a weird little kid running around the hay field moving bales in a New York City Tee. All I would ever hear from relatives on the subject was that I would be mugged or murdered my first day. This couldn’t be further from the truth. My first visit was on September 30th, 2008. I was in Connecticut for work and a group of coworkers decided we should take the train to New York for a couple of hours. The excitement equivalent to a child on Christmas Eve consumed me. As I stepped out of Grand Central Station and my foot hit the pavement for the first time, I felt as if I had taken my first breath. There was a million cultures mixing and creating the world’s busiest runway. In the blink of an eye you could pass a lady in a stunning brand new Gucci Dress and 4 inch Christian Louboutin stilettos and another girl wearing florescent red tights and a vibrant Betsy Johnson Dress. Every person that passed me seemed to have just stepped out of a Vogue magazine- so fresh and their styles read like a bestselling novel—so well developed and put together. I knew in that moment that I would strive to be here every chance that I had. We as a society are influenced a lot by what hits the runway shows in New York. Sure, some of the outfits are over the top and completely unrealistic for everyday wear, but these looks inspire clothes that trickle down to major department stores everywhere and it's something you might not even notice when you shop.

Until next time, Let your Fashionista Flag Fly, my friends!

You can read my full article here

Gilda Red

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