I stumbled upon Anne Frank’s Diary at nine, the same year I decided I aspired not to be a future president or a police officer, but Phoebe Buffay. This was also the year I wore clogs to school, but let’s forget about that and chalk it up childhood fashion #fauxpauxs.
My life is a large mess of fashion, comedy, and feminism. These three subjects grabbed a hold of me (I’m not talking a light grab, but a death inducing choke hold) and never let me go.
So, here I am, making a space, for people who love all three.
For all the aspiring Anna Wintour/Penny Hartz/bell hooks hybrids: here ya go.