To be honest, I don’t quite know what to say. I can’t even quite believe that I’ve been blogging for 7 years. Nor can I believe that I don’t have any plans to “give it up” or stop blogging. I love it.
There are times when I can crash out 3 posts in a row, and it’s all I can to do talk myself into scheduling them out, rather than posting them all at once. I get rather excited, sometimes, about what I write. There are times when it’s all I can do to re-post a favorite post.
There are times, when work is too full, when I run off and get married, birth a child, write a thesis, or birth a second child. These things, though redirecting me for a time, have all ended up enriching the bits and pieces of story that emerge here in and around the Style Dilemmas.
As I walked across an empty parking lot from Crystal City to Pentagon City to take the Metro home, I answered myself, “Writing about fashion.”
Then I called H, then “F,” and told him that exact thing. His response: “Why don’t you start a blog?”
I had to go look up what a blog was. In 2005, the Interwebs still felt young. We barely even used webmail, people. Twitter wasn’t even a twinkle in anyone’s eye. But I found Blogger, and I created an account. Then I wrote my first post.
I thought that, if maybe I could write a little bit about fashion, where I found my inspiration to not be another federal contractor in a boring grey suit, I could bring the craziness of the runways to Every Woman. If, along the way, I could answer a question or two and help someone figure out what to wear, I might actually help someone.
To this day, most of my Style Dilemmas come from friends emailing me and asking me fashion questions, less because they know about my blog, but more because they just know I love fashion. Then I pretty much beg them to let me post their questions and my answers. They’re gracious and kind to let me share.
To this day, my readership isn’t as big as I’d like it to be. I’d love to reaching tens of thousands of readers. Not quite. But every once in awhile I get a note or a comment or a tweet letting me know that I have somehow touched someone or helped them - whether I brightened a day with a pretty picture or whether I wrote something that resonated with them at a deeper level.
To this day, my staunchest supporters are my friends and family. True, that family of friends has grown and changed with this online world. But really, my mom and my sister read regularly (dad and brother, not so much). My girlfriends read, and sometimes even comment. For this, and for all of the emails, comments, and tweets, I thank them.
To this day, H is the reason this blog is what it is. It was his brainchild, an idea he had to help me out of an unhappy place. He has attended events (“When did all these hot, well-dressed women move to DC?” I believe is pretty close to a direct quote). He has played chauffeur. He has adjusted his schedule. He has been patient when I’m in the middle of posting. He has acquiesced when I asked him to join me for “just one event,” and fallen as much in love with Bill Cunningham as I am. He has bought me McQueen, Chanel, and Anglomania volumes. He has spent half of our honeymoon shopping 5th Avenue and being patient with me when I couldn’t get up the courage to walk through the incredible doors of the Comme des Garcon outpost in Chelsea. He has stayed home with the Beans so I could be out. He has understood when I needed a new outfit for an event. He has recognized that writing - blogging - makes me happy.
But most of all, he believes that I have something to say, and a unique way to say it. He may be the only one, but I am eternally grateful to him for it.
I’m still hoping that I can get my overworked, underslept, and overstretched ass in gear and organize a few little events in the new year to celebrate what has really been a pretty cool 7 years of meeting cool people and doing cool things. But don’t hate me if I don’t.