Is New York Fashion Week about more than just clothing? Contributor Lolo Michelle spends the week finding out.
When I was a kid, I loved going to Miami. My grandmother had an apartment on Brickell Avenue which overlooked the water and all the other high-rise condos, and we’d go with my mother into Key Biscayne for lunch to see where they used to live. It was inevitably hot as hell, and my grandmother wouldn’t always make the most politically-correct comments–in that cringey, IDGAF-way that old people have–but being with family in the place my mother grew up felt so special.
Lo and behold, Erik is from Miami, too! Since we’re such a baby relationship (feels weird to remember that, since I feel like we’ve been with each other for decades), our trip there this summer was our first time visiting together. While planning our South Florida stay, there was one hotel he mentioned over and over: The Biltmore.
Prince Harry launches the Invictus Games with William, Charles and Camilla by his side.
Oh, and some woman in London is expecting another baby.
I realized something basic and silly and obvious while in bed last night:
I AM HAVING A MID-LIFE CRISIS.
Technically, it might be a third-life crisis, since I hope my time won’t be up when I hit 68, but the fact remains: I just turned 34. I’m a year away from 35, that classic old “holy shit, what am I doing with my life?” milestone. And I work in an industry that, for the most part, is a young woman’s game.