< by Jill >

One little-known fact about me is that I spent about 10 years of my life planning to become a fashion designer. It’s hard to pin down the exact reason why I aspired to join the ranks of Ralph Lauren and Yves Saint Laurent, but it probably had something to do with watching The Bold and the Beautiful (a soap about rival fashion houses), admiring my grandmother’s sewing skills, and wanting to correct the miscarriage of justice known as the scrunchie* (yes, I had an altruistic streak even back then).

However, when it comes to my own style, Mitra describes it best: genre-confused. I’m not preppy, I’m not boho-chic, and I’m not whatever this is:

Ever since moving to Chicago, I’ve fantasized about being approached by the RedEye fashion journalists. In this fantasy land, they spot me on the street and compliment my amazing ensemble: brown riding pants with a flowy marigold tanktop and fitted wool blazer. After oooohing and ahhhhing while I twirl in circles, they ask their signature question: What inspires your style?

I stop twirling. I scratch my chin. I can’t fill in the blank.

Thankfully, it’s not a question that needs to be answered. I simply like what I like, and right now I happen to like big necklaces with basics (think: Lulu Frost + Gap). This week, a handful of writers will reflect on their own fashion journeys. These journeys will highlight fashion faux pas, laughable trends, and the cherished closet mainstays.

Get involved and share your style-centric memories!

* H-Rod can wear scrunchies whenever she wants.