Why I moved to Lala Land
I'd like to start by saying that I never thought I'd be writing this.
As a youngbloodbabygirl growing up in the dry heat of Arizona, my one and only dream was to become a famous fashion designer in New York City.
Let's rewind a smidge to how I first met fashion.
Life in the Southwestern desert does not immediately remind one of the frivolous and delightful concerns of fashion. Cue my gateway drug to a new world: the magazine section of Fred Myer's grocery.
While my mom did the shopping for our family, I sat. Mesmerized and serious, my large brown eyes glued to the revolving door of advertisements that make up fashion magazines. It was here that I was introduced to THE GREATS. From Chanel's glamorous tweed to Revlon's pearly promises; Donna Karan's powerful working women to Calvin Klein's toned down basics. Here in these glossy pages I, a mere mortal, was gifted a glimpse into a way to finally escape the hum drum of everyday life. It's called fashion. And what do all of these professed dazzling garments ironically situated in the most perfectly imperfect city in America: New York City.
I decided then it would be my duty to make it there.
Fast forward to 2012. I'm terrified and excited, my outfit is tie dye American Apparel and cowboy boots, and I'm ripping open my admittance letter to New York's Fashion Institute of Technology. My whole family came along to drop me off at the dorms at West 27th street between 7th and 8th avenues. I did not know then but I certainly hoped, I would be living in New York City for the next 10 years of my life (all of my twenties) and running my own independent fashion label Stickybaby.
So why then, 10 years later, have I uprooted my life and my brand for Los Angeles, California? Why did I ditch the lights and the rats for the beach and the traffic? Keep reading.
After 10 years of clawing my way through the big bosses to make my small stake, jumping through hoops to make my ideas come to life, gritting my teeth and bearing it, I had an interesting thought: I wanted to be happy.
I think one thing New Yorkers blur the lines between is achievement and happiness. Achievements are wonderful and exciting, happiness is calm. Achievements can be flaunted and they make your middle school teacher who never believed in you say "wow she did it". Happiness doesn't need to tell anyone.
I'm not saying I'm all of a sudden happy because I moved to Los Angeles.
But I am saying that for the first time in the past ten years, I'm working on it.