Living Like Blair Waldorf #7

I wish I could write purely for you. I wish I could lay my emotions for you on paper for you to rip apart and dissect until there is nothing left of it. I haven't found a way to depict an accurate image of what burns inside of me, what soaks my skin, what calms it and what unravels it.

Air. You can feel it cursing through your veins, your arteries and your heart as you race up a hill that seems endless. It is your oxygen and It is your toxin. Your addiction and your solution to survival. 

Fire. It is the path you walk through. When you are sprinting and you feel like your heart wants to drop out of your chest, the pangs of dry dust settling into your throat. An endless desert with no direction and unmistakably, no footpath. 

Water. The feeling of satisfaction that leads you out of the misery of temptation to quit. The quench you need to be a little stronger, a little more efficient and thus to fight a little harder. Counting the stomps of your feet hitting the ground and willing yourself to push further. Just this last time until you build the will power to lie to yourself once more. 'This is the last one'. Fully aware of the hurdles you have yet to jump and the pain you must endure to finish the journey. 

Earth. Damp but comforting. Luke warm but refreshing like the wind on a mild summer's day. A blanket that protects you from birth until death. A shield that gives you a reason to carry on. For if there is no ticking clock, there would be nothing but unsatisfying emptiness present in the world. A feeling of incompletion. A torturous dream of immortality. So we move. We crawl, we walk, we jog and then we sprint in the tiny hopes that we will reap the rewards at the finish line. Unaware that the rewards lay hidden in the journey. In the sweat that pours from your soul, the willingness to love fiercely and the power to fight ferociously. 

When the world thinks you're crazy but the elements understand you. 

Living Like Blair Waldorf #6

A fire in her soul.

I was going to save writing this post for when I get back to Ireland but I felt it was appropriate to start it now. I would not be surprised if you assumed I've been kidnapped considering how long I've been gone. Truth people told, I was kidnapped, kidnapped by hard work and undying passion.

I've reached the point of desperation and there is no feeling that compares to it. In laymen's term it's called rock bottom, desperate for something to work so bad that I gave up everything for it. That is how I would describe my time here in Vancouver.

Can I honestly say with an open heart that I enjoyed every second of it? No. 

Naked. How I felt when I moved here. Everything that made me, me had been taken away. Family, friends, partying, shopping, styling outfits, and of course my wonderful wardrobe of clothes. I crave busy cities, crazy nightlife scenarios and experimental photoshoots. I was forced to recreate myself in a city that repelled every characteristic of my being, as shallow as some of them were. Wallowing trees, silencing waterfalls and reckless sunsets. An assortment of turtle neck sweaters and jeans being worn over and over again. My hair a mess from countless busy nights of carving my path to success.  Do I feel like I've won? Yes and no. 

There's a lot about the journey of chasing dreams that people casually forget to mention. To achieve the dream, you have to give up almost everything. At least at the beginning. It started with one decline to a house party, then a trip to the city and a trip outside of the nest I lived in to visit the most scenic places in the world. I missed it all. Instead, I spent hours researching, planning and organising what is supposed to be the year that will change my life completely. I spent a lot of my time in the gym because of my obsession with controlling everything that is controllable in my life. I can safely say my decisions have become more calculated and deliberate now more than ever. 

I've built this armour around me that no possible distraction could take me away from what I am trying to achieve. Aha a noticeable pattern of being married to your work. Such an enticing, thrilling yet risky relationship to be in. I guess when you start feeling like no one else understands what you're trying to do, that is when you're truly on to something but I won't sit here and lie to you, it's a lonely experience.

So I finally get it. Why most people don't chase their dreams until they are much older, why some prefer to avoid the road of entrepreneurship because of its long, rushed hours and the loneliness that is very much present in abundance. But when you find your calling in this world, I have a strong belief that you need to pick up that phone and greet the bittersweet voice of destiny on the other end, as gracefully and as receptive as you possibly can.

When you stare into the darkness on a cold Winter's night what do you see? The Northern star? The brightness of the moon glaring back at you? Know that the universe is much bigger than you and right now, It is asking you to use your passion to build something great, something bigger than you. 

Mood | CHOCOLAT

She looked like subtle art. 

Covered in diamonds. The perception of a blind man. She was to attend another gala tonight, the 54th annual event of Monsieur Beaumont. Admiring her dress from the balcony window, she envisioned a night of tasteful music, expensive wine and guests with more money than they knew what to do with. Her winged liner was perfect and she knew that tonight she was out for the kill. A time where she did not come home with at least 10 new contacts on her phone? A time she never had to know. There wasn't a single soul in the small island of Monaco that did not yearn for her to bring life to a party. 

The dress was sheer for the most part, long but sheer, courtesy of Elie Saab. Long sleeved with a high neck, the pastel blue material covered every inch of her body. She paired it with a heavy round grey stone embellished necklace. Her hair was already slicked into a high bun, her red lipstick accurately applied. She did not wear any earrings. The attention was to be solely on the dress, it was too extravagant to risk taking any attention away from it. 

She arrived at the gala, late as per usual giving everybody some time to loosen up and enjoy the atmosphere. The music had already changed from mellow to enraging. Tense shoulders loosened and genuine smiles appeared. Taking it all in, she didn't notice the old man standing beside her, carefully observing the behaviour of humans removing their masks of mundanity, releasing their formality for the air to take away and finally becoming themselves once again. 

'You must be covered in diamonds. I can feel it in the air, there is something very special about you but I cannot put my finger on it. Care to share your secrets with a dying old man?'

'It must be my $2000 dollar shoes, they help me to dance better.'

'Darling I may be blind but I am no fool, it is more than that. If a blind man can sense your air of grace, it must be something you carry in your mind, no Givenchy purse or Valentino heels can do that. Arrogant enough to know that you are worth more than the thousand dollar décor present in this room, but modest enough to accept a compliment with grace. I like your balance, it is daring.'

'Monsieur Beaumont, it is nice to finally meet you.' 

Living Like Blair Waldorf #5

If you really want something, you don't stop for anyone or anything until you get it.

Procrastination. I've been doing it all weekend. Having worked my butt off during the week days I find it extremely hard to keep the momentum going on the weekends. So this Friday I quit. I literally quit. I sat in the equivalent of pyjamas (yoga pants) and an oversized t shirt, consuming more calories than humanely possible. As the sun rose and disappeared, as the tiny specs of rain hit my window on a Friday morning, I laid in my bed and watched One Tree Hill for the whole day...and the day after that. I wasn't sick with the flu nor was I dying with a hangover. Instead, I was dying of procrastination and the detriment of giving up. 

There's something I've been trying to discover in the last couple of weeks and here's the confusing part, I don't know what it is. One afternoon I decided to order books to read in order to add some flavour to my rather bland mind. Surprisingly enough, I started to put the pieces of the puzzles of confusion together. One book after the next, the knowledge became overwhelmingly useful. I may be wrong about a lot of things but if there's one thing I know I'm right about, It is that knowledge is power. 

Or at least that's what I tell myself as I struggle to finish a degree I no longer have interest in. You know when you're on the brink of tears, desperately trying to hide it from everyone but your body betrays you and you need to swallow that lump in your throat.  That's what it feels like to finish something you no longer feel passionate about. Fortunately or unfortunately I have been taught from a very young age that if I start something, I must finish it no matter what and I'm proud of that. I'm proud to say that I can and will force myself to achieve a goal I've already worked so hard for. 

There's just one last piece of the puzzle that I am still searching for. It wouldn't be so bad if there wasn't a ticking clock that we all have to answer to. It wouldn't be so bad if information was just handed to me on a platinum platter. But life just isn't supposed to be that easy for anybody. In 2 months I've learned that this is my dream, if I want it to happen then I need to get my butt up and make it happen. In 2 weeks, I've learned that sacrifice is everything. You can't get what you want without giving up something that may seem precious to you in the short term and in the past 2 days, I've learned that

On any given day, an underdog might rise up.

That underdog could be me...or it could be you. 

I was supposed to tell you about how my plant based lifestyle is going, how I'm getting fitter and talk to you about my precious new bag but when I started writing, I guess that's not what came out. 

A STRUCK OF LUCK

Source: Kristina Bazan

A 6AM wake. Is it so outrageous to wish for a thunderstorm that halts every act of movement in the city? Defeating the force of exhaustion that encouraged her to snooze her alarm, it was time to get ready for the biggest time of the year: fashion week. Her eyes were dreary and her hair, a mess. She made it her mission to avoid every mirror in the upscale hotel suite. 

An 8AM evolution. Her hair slicked back in an elegant bun, winged eyeliner drawn to perfection and lipstick the sharp colour of blood painted acutely on her lips. She slipped on a long metallic pleated skirt, a long sleeved grey sweater crop and the longest grey fur coat. Her Manolo Blahniks slip from her hands to her feet as her cobalt satchel hangs from her shoulder. She was aware of her conventional beauty, it wasn't a secret. Who would suspect an inch of insecurity from a girl with such poise, grace and charm?

Placing her tainted circle sunglasses over her eyes, she stepped out into the crowd of hungry admirers with intimidating cameras. Smiling and twirling as the camera lights flashed with unimaginable speed. 

'Mademoiselle how do you do it?' a pap shouted with encouragement. 

Moving round in a swift circle, one hand perched elegantly on one hip as she blew kisses at strangers. 

A struck of luck, I guess. 

DIAMANTS au chocolat @ PFW

Let's fly to Paris together. Let's do something crazy for once and book our flights on a hot sunny day. Let's be as spontaneous as the famous streets of an elegant city. Spending hard earned cash on gourmet dishes and the most extravagant pieces of clothing. I want to pretend to be Parisian even just for one day. I want to wear red lipstick and slick back my hair, catching the attention of all who dared to admire. Ah, the adrenaline rush that comes with Paris fashion week. It's 8.24pm and I should be attending graceful events hosted by Armani and Mulberry. It's 8.24pm and I'm dreaming of my version of paradise.

WHEN THE STARS GO BLUE

She wears all black just like her soul yet her heart is made of gold.

Walking down the streets of New York, in her high waisted snakeskin leather pants and tucked in silk button down, the only thing on her mind was finding a discreet cafe for which she could read her latest book. Pulling down her fedora hat as the wind aimed to force her off balance, she stepped into the quaint cafe on 7th street ordering her usual Americano. 

She sat in the booth with the prettiest view of the sky. Taking off her long dusty blue coat, she stretched her legs. A chic outfit followed by the roughest soil grazed combat boots on her feet, the laces were deliberately untied. She rearranged the hat that allowed her to hide her unbrushed hair, currently slicked into a low pony tail.

As she waited for coffee as dark as her attire, she watched cars come and go, people come and go, the blinding sunlight come and go and as time slipped away, she found it impossible to leave the cosy 24 hour cafe until it was dark enough to see the tiny bursts of lights coming from the darkened sky. Taking breaks from the book she was enjoying, she spent several seconds staring into her brewed coffee, watching the now coloured milk swirl round and round. 

Lost in her own world, she didn't notice when somebody sat across from her. 

Not uttering a sound until she raised her eyes from her book, he laughed and stared back into his own coffee. Stealing little glances of her as he traced the puzzle of imperfections on the wooden table that separated them both. Wondering if she was as unsolvable as she looked, he blurted out a question that he wish he hadn't.

Where do you go when you're lonely?

Her eyes flickered upwards as quick as a light switch, subconsciously massaging in the dark red lipstick she had applied that morning. She smiled back before continuing to read. 

He swore he could see reflections of a sky filled with stars in her colourless eyes. Snapping out of his mode of curiosity, he got up to leave.

Take a guess, was all she said. 

**When in doubt, wear all black but with a touch of colour. Attaining sophistication is easier than you think.