photographer .

3d artist .

dj / producer .

videographer .

designer .

khadijat .


Having my space limited by having to share a room for the first time in three years (with two other people, no less) has allowed me to grow as a fashion blogger. This isn't going to be the typical "less is more and minimalism is best" routine, because I'm really not that kind of person (yet). In high school, I had no clothes in 9th grade (though I had my fair share of gadgets and gizmos and books), so space wasn't an issue for my roommate and I. From 10th grade upwards, however, I was living in a small single, and as a result of my inability to organize my belongings, I began to lose track of what I had, and how much I had. Then, at the tail end of 11th grade, I wanted to "blossom". I'd gotten contact lenses to make it easier to play sports, and I realized that I was pretty decent-looking, sans crooked, thin-framed, thick-lensed glasses and wild, unkempt attempts at braid extensions. Plus my curves had just started to come in, which was pretty exciting (still a rectangle, though).

So I began to buy stuff. By the end of senior year, I had acquired a venerable shoe collection, pant collection, winter grandpa cardigan collection, skirt collection, short collection, jacket collection, coat collection, dress collection, bag collection, jewelry collection, and athletic apparel collection. Not to mention the fact that I started dating senior year, so I racked up a sizeable undergarment collection as well.

It was ridiculous, I told myself. Absolutely ridiculous. I didn't wear everything all the time, and apart from being separated by season, there was no real way of organizing any of these things. I realized I needed 3 suitcases, 2 duffel bags, and 2 boxes to get all my things home. And it's not like I was rich. I was at the height of excess, and it was repulsive, both to me, and to anyone who knew.

It had to be an extreme shopping problem. It was always a shopping problem. They had shows for shopping problems. I could blame it on the fact that I was a newly minted fashion blogger, and that's what I was expected to do: shop and don.  So it was excusable, right?
Wrong. It turns out, in fact, that I don't have a special shopping problem at all. Granted, I like nice things, because I'm human. But it was an organizational problem. Everything was all over the place, and whatever I couldn't find, I assumed I didn't have. In the beginning of this school year, I bought a lot of things because I wanted to feel comfortable in clothes that were my style, and that I could present to the world. Yes, I may have gone overboard, but analyzing my closet now, I can fit all my in-use clothes and shoes into one average college dorm room closet and two drawers. I hang my hats, hair accessories, and bags on the wall for aesthetic and space purposes. All my jewelry is in one small, pink, 3-drawer plastic box.

I've also developed a method of wearing my clothes. I don't dress to the nines on a daily basis. I wear sweats or plain jeans to classes as often as once a week, and when I don't leave my room, I never get out of my onesie. But I save a few articles of clothing to wear in later months. There are a few pieces that aren't even going to make an appearance on the blog until August, I guarantee that. But keeping my looks and style fresh is what I'm about as a fashion blogger, not accumulation. Having more does not make me better at my craft. In fact, it's detrimental, especially at the stage I am now, to have entire ensembles handed to me on a platter, never requiring me to spend precious time overcoming stylist's block (y'know, lamenting over how you've run out of ideas to make an original outfit). That, the ability to make and remake, is what makes lower-budget fashionistas and DIY bloggers appealing. 

I have nothing against the fashionista's more wealthy peers, but honing the art and the technique of one's personal style is essential to pulling off a designer piece with ease, flair, and ingenuity.