I am my own label: a true story

Once upon a time there was a girl who had but one top designer item, this being a vintage Ungaro skirt purchased for about ten dollars at a thrift store. Then one week this girl went to the Bon Marché in Paris and was dizzied by the things she couldn't afford, but too thirsty for shopping to not spend over twenty times what she normally would on a pair of Chanel sunglasses, thinking that her terrible luck with sunglasses would end with the blessing of Coco. A month or so later that same girl lost that same pair of Chanel shades in the vast city of New York. Surprise ending!! The girl was yours truly.

At first I was frightened, ridden with guilt over the ludicrous amount of money I'd spent, and then lost. I beat myself up, called myself stupid. Miraculously, the next day, a weight had been lifted and has never since returned. I've come to a wise conclusion that probably anybody can relate to: we are not defined by the material things in our lives. Value is not determined by cost or label. No, no, no, no, no. To let something like this haunt you is to admit to being weak and (pardon me if anyone takes offense) utterly, inexcusably ridiculous. Now, okay, I'll admit that if it had been a vintage Chanel suit or dress I lost, my heart might still be hurting. But at the end of the day, it is my earnest hope and desire that the tears I shed in life be over the love I've lost and gained, not over the things, no matter their label, no matter the money spent. And besides, the glasses always slipped off my nose when I put my head down, and they were very cute but I believe in my heart that the glasses and I were just not meant to have a long term relationship. I hope that some nice girl who couldn't afford them found them where I left them and was thrilled. It's a lovely thought, anyway.

The truth is that one of my favorite sweaters is vintage and cost me a mere 25 cents. Things don't have to be famous and mass-produced to be valuable or to make you look good, feel good or like yourself. I must admit that in Paris, I felt like an odd duck, too quirky and colorful to blend in somehow, but I feel it's time to embrace my weirdness yet again, to parade myself in my eccentric glory and not care what the magazines tell me a woman should be and wear. And after all, Coco Chanel was once a girl without money, who made her own rules, stuck out, and later became a fashion icon. Here's to karma, to the unpredictability of life, and to realizing that being yourself is far more special than owning expensive things.