I'm bitchin' 'bout the rain, just bitchin' 'bout the rain.

April 06, 2017 by Daniela Medina in Fashion, Outfit Inspiration, Style, New York

Tina Turner once sang, “I can’t stand the rain / Against my window,” and I was like, “GURL, WHAT? YOU ARE INSIDE WHERE IT IS DRY. LET’S KEEP OUR PRIORITIES STRAIGHT.”

I hate rain.

You know that thing when a cat is submerged into a body of water against his will, and then he comes out looking fifty pounds skinnier and like a demon who will FUCK. YOU. UP? That’s essentially me all of April, except not fifty pounds skinnier, due to the fact I have to lug fifty extra pounds of waterproof gear everywhere.

If you’ve ever been curious about whether Totes is lying about the indestructibility of their umbrellas, stand with one open in a New York City wind tunnel on a rainy day for a short experiment.

New York is the worst when it rains. Everything smells weird. You probably smell weird. Hair care and beauty routines become, I mean, like—why? Just why? The sight of sidewalk runoff water makes you want to throw up in your mouth, because that shit is a whole lot yellow-red-browner than it should be. The subway becomes its own urban wetland, only instead of marshes and alligators, we have floating Cheetos bags, Slushie cups, and suspect debris, and the strong muscle rats who weren’t washed away by Sandy. And cars are assholes; not the people driving them per se, but the cars themselves, what with the tires, and the puddles, and the splashing.

This city is miserable wet. Rain brings all the inconvenience snow does without the fluffy, beautiful, shuts everything the hell up, magic.

“But, Daniela: April showers bring May flowers.”

IT’S FUCKING NEW YORK. CONCRETE JUNGLE. EMPHASIS ON CONCRETE. I DON’T EVEN REMEMBER WHAT A FLOWER LOOKS LIKE.

Welcome to Struggle World. Like that of the Spice Girls, we also wear a lot of crop tops here. Even in December.

December 09, 2016 by Daniela Medina in Fashion, Outfit Inspiration

I was sitting on my couch the other night, having wine for dinner because I didn’t feel like cooking, when suddenly it hit me: “Man, what a struggle infested life I live. And wow do I love it.”

All that glamour and shit—who has the time or energy? A lot of people, actually, but I am not one of them. Do you brush or wash your hair everyday? Do you remember to eat? Do you go to bed at 11pm and actually fall asleep at 11pm, instead of staying up an additional three hours under the sheets to watch Gilmore Girls, because you missed that boat in the early 2000s due to strict TV-watching household rules, and have always resented it? Yes? You do all those things?

And are you now asking if I’m sweeping basic hygiene, eating, and a respectable amount of sleep under the category of “glamour and shit”? You betcha.

Truly, though . . . my life isn’t anywhere near struggle-infested. An example of the laughable struggle I'm plagued with is one where I'm forced to choose between staying home to drink a $5 bottle of wine alone in peace, instead of a $15+ LES/Village cocktail—of which nearly half will inevitably be spilled when some girl’s purse knocks into it—or if I do venture out, deciding to willingly tack on an extra hour and a half of travel time at 3am by taking the subway home, instead of a surge-priced Uber. Like, come on.

We pick up a lot of weird, arbitrary rules about how to go about our lives from people who are not us, and know nothing about our experiences—have you noticed that? Not to say I’m closed off to suggestions or advice, but I’m definitely not into being told there’s something incorrect about the way I live, particularly if I enjoy it, or if aspects of it are beyond my control: That I most definitely do not have time for.

Just like I don't have time for anyone telling me I should sleep instead of staying up to 2am to find out what happens with this Dean-Jess situation, because excuse me very much, but I'm like a bajillion years behind on that AND I NEED TO KNOW.

Zara crop top; H&M skirt; Uniqlo socks; Prabal Gurung for Target flats; Tucum necklace; Vintage belt

And here I am feigning warmth, because apparently functioning heat in my apartment was optional.

POWER THROUGH IT!!! HUZZAH!!!

Pretending to be model-y/artsy, but really just listening for pipes that sound like they're about to burst, as an indication the radiator is working.

So maybe if I take my hair like this . . . and wrap it around my neck like this . . . it's like my own hand knit scarf. My own human hair, hand knit scarf. My own dirty, dry shampoo infused, human hair, hand knit scarf. Regrets about not buying that space heater in 3 . . . 2 . . . 1 . . .

WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS, AN ARCTIC
BIO-DOME?

Global Thanksgiving.

November 24, 2016 by Daniela Medina in Fashion, Outfit Inspiration, Style

Ah T-Day. Good 'ol T-Day. At this time last year, I was living it up at a Brazilian BBQ in Rio. Sound swank? It's not, I nearly vomited afterwards because I constantly forget I'm not a 200-pound man.

A few months later, that same city would play host to the world's most respected global sporting event, the Olympics. It's the same city where Simone Biles and Katie Ledecky would shatter records, and Ryan Lochte would decide to make the expression, "Jeah!" all his own—leaving Mexicans worldwide, including myself, lamenting, "Damn, that shit was trademark-able??? Coulda BEEN gettin' that paper!"

It's also the city that premiered the first ever Refugee Olympic Team.

We're told to imagine the world as a very big place, leaving some of us who are less adventurous and unwilling to deal with the extraordinary, secluded in our comfort zones. But it's actually rather small, the imaginary borders created in our heads and on maps blurred into nonexistence. So while we spend this day giving thanks for what we have, it's also important to remember why we're able to do that: where have the good things in our lives come from and why. The boundaries we create for ourselves and the world are usually physical manifestations of the walls of thought erected in our brains, segmenting us into convenient little groups to battle it out for resources, rights, and privilege. But we are not so separate as we would like to believe ourselves to be. Earth, after all, is home for everyone.

So on this day of thanks, express gratitude for the abundance in your life. Go all out. Shout it from the rooftops. Then do everything in your part to help other people live a life where they can do the same.

Happy Thanksgiving, everyone.

Forever 21 bomber; H&M button-up dress; American Apparel skirt and belt; Uniqlo socks; Zara boots; Housing Works necklace

The Ghosts of Fast Fashion Past.

November 18, 2016 by Daniela Medina in Fashion, Style, Outfit Inspiration

There's been a lot on my mind lately. Which is unusual for me, and now my brain hurts! Ha! Just kidding, I have a PhD in overthinking things. Want to mess up a situation that's totally fine by letting an overactive brain wreak havoc on it? I'm ya girl.

However, with politics playing so heavily on the forefront, I have, truly, been ruminating on quite a lot. One issue that's been haunting me specifically is that of planet Earth's health.

I'm a pretty big offender of fast fashion. Obviously this blog is a testament to that. Like the majority of the population, I make my purchases at Forever 21, Zara, H&M, ASOS, and so on and so forth, because it's what I can afford: I don't have sponsors or endorsements for my blog posts, so everything I buy comes straight out of my pockets. It adds up! I tell myself that I don't throw everything out immediately (in fact I hang onto clothes and accessories for years), so it's not that bad . . . but isn't it? The fact remains, all the negatives that took place to produce the commodities I bought still occurred, whether I throw them out immediately or not.

So I've been looking a lot at thrift and consignment stores. I mean, I always have, but even more so these days. A lot of folks get an ick factor at the thought of trying on, let alone purchasing and bringing home, clothing that has been owned by a stranger, and I get that, but I also really think not ruining the world is just way more pressing. See, there's this invasive theory I suspect many individuals have: they're "just one person," so what harm can they really do? What's a gum wrapper on the street here, or a long shower there? What's a three dollar shirt here, or a fifteen dollar pair of shoes there? Really, what's it going to do? After all, they're just one out of an estimated 7.4 billion people. The problem is, when you get 7.4 billion people who think the same way, you're doing the math wrong: it's not one out of 7.4 billion, it's one times 7.4 billion.

You see where I'm going here?

Zara coat and shoes (thrift store purchases); H&M top (thrift store purchase); Noir earrings (thrift store purchase); American Apparel belt; Hanes sports bra; Giorgio Armani skirt (freaking thrift store purchase!)