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

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!)

Global Thanksgiving.

The Ghosts of Fast Fashion Past.