Orange You Glad I Didn't Say Banana?

Yes, I’m super duper cheesy (proof: I just said super duper), and I suck at captions/titles, but it was the first thing that popped into my head, and it stuck. So it’s staying. This week was hands down the busiest week of my adult life!!! I worked from 6 a.m. until 7:30 p.m. almost every day this week, and I answered over 200 emails. But….I got my first REAL paycheck, and I rewarded myself by buying a leather jacket. Well, technically, I bought the leather jacket before getting my paycheck, but I couldn’t resist. I have been leather jacketless for over two years, and it is really a miracle that I have made it this long without one. R.I.P. to my old one. ~tears~

Almost every friend I have ever made during my 22 years has told me that the first time they met me, they thought I was going to be the biggest B****. This directly correlates to a serious case of chronic rbf (resting b**** face) that I was plagued with the second I entered this world. I’m pretty convinced that it has everything to do with my big, thick, arched eyebrows and the natural turn down in the corners of my mouth. I know I should probably smile a little bit more, but I’ve already made it this far, so why turn back now? Just know, that I am actually a nice person. My face just makes me look like a raging b****. This week at work, the intern said to me “Chronic resting b**** face? As if Zoey. You’re always smiling.” I almost fell over when I heard him say that. I have never gotten such a compliment in my life!! My boss even agreed with him. Who is this new Zoey they speak of? Maybe being at work in the industry of my dreams, in the greatest city in the world is just a little bit smile inducing.

When I left Milk Studios on Wednesday, I walked with one of my friends toward Penn Station, planning on veering off the path once hitting 22nd st. We were crossing the road, in deep conversation about something that I have already forgotten, and there she was. Freja Beha Erichsen came galavanting across the intersection toward me, dressed in spot on, off duty, model streetwear. I stopped mid-sentence. My breath actually, physically escaped my lungs. In this moment I felt maybe that I could pass out, or throw up, or sh** myself. I just couldn’t believe that I was only inches from my childhood idol. She was even more beautiful in person, so skinny she would disappear if she turned sideways, and taller than I would have ever guessed. She was perfect. For a split second I thought about stopping her for a picture, but I didn’t even bother. If I stood next to her for a snap, I would look like one of those mini soda cans, short and round. I kept walking, and somehow found my way back into the conversation that was interrupted, but my heart raced, my smile grew, and my hands shook a little. Obviously, I called my mom immediately to tell her what happened.

If you haven’t figured it out by now, my blog is NOT going to look like every other stylist’s fashion blog that you see. I was a writing major in college, and I HATED writing because I never got to write what I actually wanted to write. So, I am going to use this blog to not only showcase my love for fashion and styling, but also my writing. If you are one of those people that reads one or two sentences and then gets bored (you probably didn’t even make it this far), maybe just scroll down and check out the pics! I want to share everything with you, but if you only wanna see whatever dope pictures I posted each day, then by all means, don’t read! You do you boo. I’ll do me.

If you can't tell, I was in a weird mood when I was taking these pics, so some of them are just a little silly. Don't judge.