Why I Started Blogging (Again)


When I was 18, I had the crazy idea to start a fashion blog. To be clear, this wasn't a flashy "style blog" like the ones you might think of today. Nope. We're talking an old school, post-LiveJournal, Blogspot kind of website. Back in the good old days of Google Reader and Blog Rolls—a time when people heard the word "feed" and still thought RSS not Instagram.

 #TBT to one of my 347 outfit posts—I had finally perfected the casual-blogger-side-glance by this point

#TBT to one of my 347 outfit posts—I had finally perfected the casual-blogger-side-glance by this point

I had just finished my freshman year of college and was feeling lost. Blogging provided an outlet, and more importantly, an identity that helped me navigate the natural confusion of my late teens and early twenties. It somehow managed to survive 5 countries, 4 roommates, 3 apartments, 2 failed relationships, and 1 post-grad job without missing a beat. And yet despite everything we'd been through, at a certain point I no longer felt like the same girl that had started it at 18. The moment that blogging began to feel like a burden, I knew it was time to call it quits. 

It was a weird goodbye, an unexpected breakup that lingered and left me feeling empty for a long time afterwards. But, as time would have it, I grew up and no longer felt guilty for leaving my once-beloved blog behind.

Life, happened. And in no particular order: I fell in love. I got a new job. I moved across the country.


Which brings me here—this moment. Typing familiar words on an unfamiliar blog on the cozy sofa of my tiny 5th floor walk-up.

I moved to New York City 6 months ago and once the dust settled, I realized how much I missed writing. Having a place to spill the little bits and pieces of life that I'll look back on years from now and remember fondly...if only by blog post. The idea of starting something has been swirling around in my head since the day I wrote my last blog post, but nothing felt quite right. 

I launched a Tumblr, I wrote on Medium, I even tried to be a normal person and pretended I didn't need a creative outlet. And then one day, after having one of those nights where I was moody for no apparent reason, I came home, washed my face and had a moment of clarity. All I can tell you is that despite months of brainstorming and displaced angst, this blog was conceived mid-suds while trying to rinse off the soapy residue of my new favorite Glossier cleanser.

So, here we are. Welcome to my new home—a 5th Floor Walk-Up with a story to tell.