Dear Fall

Dear Fall,

How are have you been? It’s been a long time since we’ve chatted. I know that’s my fault ( the whole moving to a sub- tropical climate thing), but I’m back in our city and I can’t wait to see what you do this year! The sun is already changing and I can feel you near. I can smell the Pumpkin Spice already, and I’ve been wearing booties all week. I’m so excited for the fun things we’ll do together this year; and of course the things I’ll be wearing.

Even though it’s still 78 degrees, I’ve already started to layer ( for practice)  and soon those layers will become a bit heavier- like a cozy knit over an all plaid suit or a jewel toned scarf paired with a dark floral dress. I’m ready! Ready for crisp, cool days of exploring the city, walking Central Park, and taking quick trips outside the city to pick apples, and visits to pumpkin patches with a spiced Chai in hand. I’m ready for chilly evenings on my fire escape watching the leaves change on the adjacent tree outback, sipping hot cider and watching the stars. Don’t get me wrong, summer was great- steamy walks around the city in ruffled or off the shoulder tops and sandals that end with an Aperol Spritz are certainly nothing to complain about. But my heart belongs to you sweet autumn; ever since I was a little girl trapped in a swamp land, longing for fall foliage and to wear boots with out sweating.

I’ve been day dreaming of  wearing your colors and finding the perfect navy turtleneck or muted gold handbag to mix with with the many blush accents I have acquired that past few seasons (thankfully all things pink are not going away), and I’ve already started the hunt for a piece in Maple Orange, which is predicted to be your hit color this year. I find myself checking the weather app on my phone more and more to see when you’ll make your first appearance.  I’ll be waiting patiently, sporting a wine colored nail polish and any scarf that won’t suffocate me in these last days of summer. Hurry soon, we’ve been apart for far too long.

With love,

Flamingo

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New York State of Mind: The Move

December 2016:

It’s Christmas time in Miami, so that means palm trees, humidity at 80%, and Holiday cheer that seems super out of place (the usual for the 305)…I’m wearing a tank top for Christ sake. In my childhood home, I sit in my dad’s home office.Surrounded by two clothing racks, boxes packed to the ceiling and an air mattress. Every thing my husband and I own is packed in this tiny 10 x 10 room, including us. Moving day is near and it doesn’t feel like Christmas, it’s feels like  I’m not there or really anywhere, because I’m in my head.  Will it be the same? Will I like New York the same way I did before? Am I going back because I truly belong there or am I chasing the life I lived in my 20’s ? Who knows. Merry Christmas to me and my questions.

January 2017:

Happy New Year! The move is now less than 7 days away. My two brothers, parents, dog, husband and brother’s fiance have been under the same roof for 2 weeks and I can’t help but feel like an optimistic teenager- childish and playful- at times giddy, at times anxiety ridden. The positive anticipatory vibes come to a screeching halt when I somehow get the flu and I can’t break my fever for 5 days. We decide that my husband should sleep at his parents to avoid getting sick – because someone has to drive to NYC with our life in tow. I can’t say goodbye to our friends, I can’t give them belated holiday gifts. I’m unable to help with last minute prep, and I was in bed while freight movers picked up our stuff. I’m too sick to finish my last days of work or even grab a coffee with my mom one last time. I couldn’t spend time with my twin brother who I see twice a year or my little brother who I won’t be seeing for a long time. Two days before my move, my dad catches me at 6:30 am wandering the house while coughing and crying…hunched over,wearing the same blush colored night gown I’ve worn 5 days in a row. Still unable to break a fever, he takes me to the urgent care moments later. As we’re driving through my hometown on a sleepy, cool morning, I catch myself in the rear view mirror. I was so sick- I didn’t recognize myself. It then hit me, somehow I physically manifested this massive transition and my body was just catching up to what I already knew – that this wasn’t supposed to be easy, but it will be worth it. Besides, at this point… 31 years in… I already knew that I never choose the easier route. Our road trip was the perfect example of that, we caught one of the biggest snow storms  The Carolinas have seen in over a decade. We fell in a snowy ditch, got out, spent a night with family, laughed a lot, played trivia, and I coughed a ton as we drove through a winter wonderland. On January 8th, around 8pm, we crossed the Brooklyn bridge into Manhattan and we were home. My eyes filled up with tears, I looked at myself in the icy rearview and realized I wasn’t chasing a life I already lived. I was chasing a life I wanted to live.

February 2017:

Ummm it’s real cold, Happy 32nd birthday to me!

May 2017:

We’ve moved into our permanent home. A sweet little apartment on the Lower East Side (downtown girl 4 lyfe). Hard wood floors, a cute fire escape, and sun filled bedroom. We sold all of our furniture, so we had to start fresh.  It felt good to have a brand new start and I felt closer to my husband than ever before. We had become so in sync through this whole process, and now we were at the fun part- the ‘buying stuff part’. We had to decide everything from a bath mat to a couch, and I loved it. We were reunited with our stuff from storage since we had been sub-letting our friend’s apartment for the past 4 months and everything was finally coming together. Spring was in full swing, I broke out my sandals and light weight wardrobe as we discovered our new neighborhood via many long walks. My commute to work became much quicker, giving me more time to write and do more things for myself. My life at work had settled and I finally felt like I knew what I was doing and not pretending (still feel like that sometimes though).

July 2017:

It’s real hot. Rosé is good. Real good.

August 2017:

It’s been 8 months, Summer is cooling off and Fall feels near. Walking everywhere has (once again) become a form of moving meditation for me. The city speaks to me, I find inspiration with every step I take. Days off are filled with mini adventures to new neighborhoods and lots of pictures of everything I see and or wear.My personal style has changed, I’m taking more risks and playing with color (gasp). My husband and I have both established a deep connection with the city and the few friends that have visited us can’t help but mention how happy I look. Because I am. My days are sometimes very long. Blogging and a 60 hour work week sometimes seem impossible to juggle, but when I’m walking home, headphones in and eyes looking up, I can’t help feel like I’m where I need to be.  Love in my heart, ideas constantly churning in my head and a ton of gratitude in my soul. I’m so grateful for my incredible support system that never doubted or judged the move. Lots of people move back to their hometown and get married like I did, they then buy a house or have a kid. I decided to mix things up ( per usual) and live in a place where I can thrive and work towards a life of that I can be proud of . A life of creativity, passion and congruence. My life should be the life I envision in my head; that’s the challenge. Challenge accepted.

I love you New York

XX

J

*Editors Note*

This blog post was not something I’d ever thought I’d write, but YOU ( dear reader and sweet bird)  asked for it and I hope it answers questions, inspires and resonates . It’s important to be honest and live my truth through this blog even if it has nothing to do with what I’m wearing. I hope you like it, thanks for reading .

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Miami Born and Bred

After many requests, I will be sharing my transition from Miami to NYC  very soon. However in true #flamingostyle, we need to do a prelude. You need to fully understand what started the fire.

The fire: my obsession with NYC. A fire that started early ( like age 5) and lead to me leaving my nest at 21 years old for the big city. But Miami, (surprisingly) still possessed a magnetism of sorts that lured me back in 2012, and shortly after that, a Flamingo and her Chronicles were realized. This bird also realized that maybe the place that birthed her, isn’t the place where she could truly be herself. The fire was smoldering and I had to do something.

By now you may have gathered that the brightly colored bird I proudly use as my mascot, inspiration and alter ego often seems ironic. For starters I seldom wear color- this blog was originally started around the concept of colorful pictures of my black and white wardrobe. The only tropical element of my blog was it’s back drop, Miami, a place I didn’t exactly fit in. Despite me being a native. I hate the heat, I don’t enjoy the afternoon tsunamis, or the social dynamic… and if I’m honest, I often felt like the odd one out.

A Flamingo feeling odd in Miami?

Fun fact: Flamingos are rarely seen in Florida. Most natives can’t make a claim of seeing one in nature. Probably why I’m so fascinated with the creature. #justsayin

This particular Flamingo prefers to fly north for the..well, forever. So I did, for the second time, with out a doubt in my head. Miami was not for me, and maybe I wasn’t really the bird I thought I was. Maybe I wasn’t bright and different, maybe I belonged to the darkly dressed masses that are okay with wearing one color and shuffling through snowy city streets.

What I’ve  found was that I most definitely was bright and different, I just needed to ( once again) have a change of scenery to stretch myself, and show my true colors (pink) in a city where everything is (truly) possible. I just needed the contrast, the pink against a grey jungle. NYC is where I will reach my true potential, tap in to what I really want to do (jury is still out on that) and show those feathers off.

Stay tuned for the real deal on my move earlier this year and what life is like almost 8 months in.

Always keeping things colorful, always keepin’ it real.

XX

J

 

 

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