Laugh Until We Think We'll Die, Barefoot on a Summer Night

People ask me why I make fashion such a big part of my life. Why I dive into photos of editorials, magazine covers, model size debates and basically all of it. They don't understand.
Because can't you see?
Fashion will never end, or lose interest in me or leave one day and never come back. So I write. I write and write and write about the beautiful people who have a whole industry of their own, even though lots of them are ugly on the inside. I can be very ugly on the inside sometimes.
I write because I don't want to think of the mess I created of myself because of one stupid boy I barely even see anymore. I'm so pathetic that when I see him I run away like a terrified little puppy, yet we used to actually know each other.
Not that I don't enjoy the fashion, of course I do. But it means more to me than some people realize. It's there for me; a welcome distraction and I'd be nowhere without it. It's not a waste of time, a fantasy world. It's very real, just sometimes out of reach.
But me? I'm not going to spend my life on the outside, trying to get into high-profile shows, pleading that yes, my name is on the list. I have the ambition. Everyone will know my name one day.
I am not fit to be a doctor. A lawyer. A scientist. Never. I tried taking all that science, it's meant for other people. Not me.
"Do what you love." Well. Here I am and I'm not going anywhere. XOXO,
Nina