I was a wee young lad in the pictur-o. This is me at 17/19 - legally I was nineteen years old, I think, maybe a bit younger, but I had just moved out of my roommate’s apartment in Burnsville, Minnesota. Which is the equivalent of living in Yonkers relative to New York City, or something along those lines. This was a fabulous time in my life where I was renting an apartment near Lake Calhoun so I could go for a beautiful walk every day, I was living by myself, and really coveting my new-found sense of independence. I had started the first real relationship in my life at this point, and it was a great time of self-discovery in many ways. 

So, the story behind this picture is this - I had just started modeling, and was in a hair show for Aveda. It was one of their Congress events, and apparently that is a huge deal in the hair world. The stylists decided to dye my hair pink, and chop it off. It actually looked really, really cool when they styled it and made it uber chic and fabulous. Trust me when I say that the pink color was j’amazeballs. After the show, I walked into my boyfriend’s apartment, he gasped, and said, “Interesting.” 

Not interesting as in good-interesting, but more like “What the motherfuck have you done with your herr, baby girl?” He may have circled my hair-do with shock and horror, and I may/may not have started crying. It took me YEARS to grow out the pink in my hair, and it really haunted me for a significant period of time because of my boyfriend’s reaction. Truth be told, I should have owned it, but when you’re that young, it’s easy to be vulnerable to any criticism. 

In this picture, I have dyed out the pink, chopped off all the funky layers, and attempted to channel Posh Spice. Despite my young age, independence, and all that jazz, I was really rocking out the designer goods at this age thanks to being a shop-girl at Neiman Marcus. Those almost knee-high boots were from Gucci, mini-skirt from French Laundry (?), and silk halter from I donno where. My best friend snapped this pic pre-salsa dancing night at the Quest. I’ve really dated myself with this post if you are from the Twin Cities, but this is where my journey with fashion really started! 

This picture was taken when I was in the second or third grade. I remember being extremely skinny and learning english from my classmates. My family was forbidden to speak to me in my native language (pashto and urdu), and I was forced to watch hours upon hours of American television. These actions resulted in me being proficient in english in approximately two or three months of time. Back to my skinny-ness, which I think is very apparent in this photo, I remember going to class and my fellow students looking at me in a state of wonderment. “Where are you from?” they would ask in curious, hushed voices. “Guess,” was my response, or something along those lines. “Somalia!” 

Yes, my fellow students thought I was from Somalia. That is how skinny I was. This was at a time when emaciated Somalian babies were gracing the covers of Time magazine, and when people read the printed versions of magazines. 

Anyway, here I am holding some ornate art creation while sporting white, knee-high socks and (dirty) Keds. I remember the denim acid-wash skirt with the glitter floral detail on the front side (ftw, people!) quite vividly, even to this day. I may/may not have paired it with a Seinfeld-esque pirate shirt. Damn, I look good. In a fresh-off-the-boat, 1991 way, right? ::winkface:: Probably not so much, but it’s a journey to greatness, people. 

I’m restarting this blog! It’s going to be dedicated to my personal style, and I might start another blog for things that inspire me via images, magazines, etc. I don’t know.

What I do know is that I love fashion, and I want to document where I started out with my fashion journey to where I am now. Trends come and go, and while I know that I employ many trendy items (usually through accessories), I like to believe that I have a very classic, timeless style. Talk to me in 10 years, and I may have to reassess that statement. 

So, it starts out with me as a young girl hanging out in Pakistan in front of a rose garden. I do believe that this is at my grandparent’s home, but I certainly could be wrong since I don’t recall this particular memory. A friend of mine, also of South Asian descent, was transported to memories of her childhood when looking at this picture because of the background - particularly the way that the bricks are laid on the ground and green shrubbery cascading the walls. 

I start out with this image because it really means the world to me. I have very few images of my youth, and this is something that my family in Pakistan sent to me when I first discovered them via Facebook. I remember wearing very girly dresses as a young girl, and this picture is evidence of that. I had a fantastic childhood, and the memories that I have of Pakistan are only good ones. So, here is how it all started. I think I look trés chic with my floral dress, bangles, and Grecian inspired sandals. What do you think? ;)