I want to flashback to 2001, the beginning of my fashion memoir. I’m four years-old and throwing a grade-A hissy fit. Trust me when I say my tantrum was way worse than table flipping Teresa Giudice circa Real Housewives season two. So why was toddler me drowning in a river of tears? The answer: because I was forced against my will to spend a whole hour in the wasteland of random rags and malformed mannequins. In other words, I was in the mall. 2001 will forever be known as the year I swore that I would never, ever in a million, trillion years, enjoy shopping. It was also the year I didn’t get my swirly lollipop, but I digress.
Now let me flash forward to the present. Today, I solemnly swear that four year-old me was an idiot. Not an idiot in an irritating and petulant sense. Rather, I was a little girl with Shirley Temple hair who was too naïve to see the Taj Mahal sized importance of her location. My vision wasn’t 20/20, but how was I completely blind to the stylistic significance of being surrounded by alice + olivia? (Side note: I rocked the adorable, circle-framed glasses to help my vision. They’re totally making a comeback.)
Needless to say, my sight drastically improved at age seven, I tossed the glasses, learned the importance of Bloomie’s and Saks and vowed to take a stand in the fashion arena.
This is where my real story starts. In fifth grade, while all the other kids were playing Monopoly at recess, my best friend and I huddled in the corner to play our own version of Fashion Police’s Who Wore it Better. A few years later, my nightly regimen expanded from the norm of face washing and teeth brushing to include watching E! News. This marks the development of my adoration for Giuliana Rancic, her job and her keen eye for style. Then at 16, I was enlightened by the magical powers of the credit card. My AmEx is the larger-than-life piece of plastic that justifies my purchases…right? Wait, is that wrong?
Now, at 18, I, Samantha Holender, a George Washington University Fashionista, admit that I have a semi-obsessive relationship with retail. I confess to a debatably unhealthy, stalker-eque love affair with all things Vogue, boho, Rachel Zoe and Olivia Pope (proud GW grads). In the fall, I will be taking my passion for oversized accessories, chic attire and all things fierce, flirty and fabulous to D.C., where I will be majoring in Journalism and Mass Communications in hopes of one day working for Glamour, my favorite magazine.
I am beyond ecstatic to be welcomed into the CollegeFashionista family and look forward to sharing glimpses of my style throughout the summer.
