on the right path

May I start with a cliché? Well, hope you don’t  mind me saying London Fashion Week was like my dream coming true. Getting a press pass and invitations with my name on was enough. But then, using them while entering Somerset nearly left me fainted.

This dramatic swap from my hometown steadiness to this big hectic world where you casually approach Laura Whitmore or Brix Smith to find out they’re wearing Bora Aksu or Isabel Marant feels like I’m living in one of these slushy comedies about teenage girls making their lives incredible. For me, LFW was big fashion and life lesson, no matter how exaggerated it sounds.

And it’s all because first day was a shock. It felt a little bit like being thrown into a place you want to belong, but you keep convincing yourself will never be a part of. But I quickly learnt no one knows me there, no one know where I come from. If I wear some obtrusive colors another day, I can be as noticeable as any other fashionista entering Somerset with  an iphone in hand and sunglasses on her head even though the sky is grey.

Yeah, some people were snobbish, but some inspiring. It’s your choice whether you look for those who can share your fashion taste or keep your head down because you don’t feel good enough to make a statement with your outfit. That’s right, two clichés in one post may be too much as for an aspiring writer, but it is genuine true to say while I felt confident, I was most stylish.  As simple as that. Wish I knew that earlier.

But LFW was not just about ‘what to wear’ dilemma. It was also my final fashion test. Can I handle writing, watching, feeling, being it. Well, to be honest, I was just living fashion. Now, I don’t need any more assertion what shall I be doing, how to make it work. I’m eventually on the right path. Let’s keep going then.