ok....this is gonna be a long rant people....
I know I haven’t been the most faithful blogger or even a writer in general, but seeing as how I can never figure out a specific subject… I’ll just stick to what I know, or shall I say what I really don’t know, what I often question, fear, loathe, and absolutely love. Or maybe what I am lacking of, confused about, missing, and what I crave.
Question on the agenda today:
Why is it, every person you meet with your dream job seems to hate their job? Are we all destined to this un-admirable fate of loathing our very own workplace? Do we as employable workforce of the world purposely pick career paths to please our wallets and not our proverbial creative thumb? Or is it… a tradition we as society have placed into our own hands and embedded into our own minds as “typical” work syndrome? Are we destined to hate our jobs…?
The young troubled me would initially respond as “no one cares about life or love anymore, they want money, you grow up, get a job, make money then you die. It’s simple.”
The older wiser moderately-troubled me in the present says “that is simple, simply sad.”
I recently encountered a problem (erm…career-wise …) and began to wonder why my friend completely un-qualified to work at this retail location was hired (keep in mind he was a high school and college drop out with no retail experience and no specific style or sense of fashion or even high-spirit or desire for the job!). I mean, I had the experience (worked at Abercrombie and the Gap, god rest my fashion sins for working at such dreadfully droll places) and I went to art school to study fashion design for two years, not to mention I read OYSTER, VOGUE, HARPER’S religiously. And in desperate measures, I might even add I lookbook and blog about fashion (although I’ve never been that desperate…) I just don’t get it…. I have the experience, the knowledge and the passion! I highly doubt the girls in the leggings a la 2005 and oversized ‘80s inspired tees (it’s true, the employees that work there dress so sloppy…) can tell the difference between a woven and a knit, I mean, I have been grossly underestimated as a perfect candidate! (phew…. need to take a breather here…)
My friend thinks the managers are seriously afraid of how over-qualified I am. I started to believe him, then someone older and wiser than I sparked the idea of calling them and asking for the job. Yeah I know, whisking all pride and dignity aside- I need that job, I love the store and I love fashion. It was my destiny…not necessarily their destiny, but it was mine…and I always get what I want.
It sounds selfish; digitally or on paper… but I deserve this job! My friend says every person working there hates their job, even the managers. Maybe I wasn’t hired because they don’t want someone hippy happy peppy “I love this place” skipping about down the aisles filled with tacky nautical prints and sequined bedazzled tank tops. Someone with the brains to say “these gold studded black strappy heels are totally copied off of Jeffery Campbell whom was copying Gucci” or “this chanel inspired tweed cardi is way everyday classic”. Maybe they are threatened by someone that is a fan.
Or someone with skill?
Either way, the hate continues it’s rotation. Managers will be scared of losing their pathetic jobs, in fear of never being able to weed out the good people and just hiring incompetent drones, victims of fashion faux pas and horrible dye jobs. And the stupid, reluctant un-stylish un-employables will be hired… Seriously! I can see your roots!
Entry #2: Idols & strains of vain admiration
I have fantastic news…for me! I was over my friend’s house the other day helping him with some photos and of course study (he is miles younger than me…) and he, of course was helping me apply for jobs (he blindly dived in telling me how I could get a job as a manager with any managerial experience of a degree of any sort….he’s young). I accidentally went over a couple of his emails and found a password recovery email for a very important fashion-related website…..and it was MY NAME! HIS PASSWORD WAS MY NAME…
I, of course, was instantly enthralled and flattered, but don’t we all admire one of our friends much more closely than the others. Not because of mere age difference but because of qualities they possess that we desire. It was obvious he dedicated his password to me, but was it because of my wisdom through style? Is that being vain?
My boyfriend’s idols consisted of cartoon’s defamed characters, my cousin’s obnoxious ex-boyfriend, and cliché MTV-created personas that were ultimately chimed as class nerd or X-files fanatic of the year. What made his idols separate from mine?
Well for one: My idols have dignity, and won’t do just anything for money.
Secondly: my idols have style & somewhat obscurity…
What attracts us to these people? Are these people we want to be? I, after all, always hear my boyfriend spout “when I grow up I wanna be just like him” which of course leads me to cringe and die a little on the inside (I mean honestly, his idols are a little…mentally deranged, hopeless, pathetic and lonely)…
Are these people who we already are or amounting to be?
Were we raised to look for a certain type of idol? My boyfriend’s idols obviously make him laugh but do they pay their own bills? My idols have money, fame, amazing fashion sense, but is their beauty getting in the way of their well-being, possibly taking success too seriously, leaving no time to stop and smell the roses?
Does every idol have its kryptonite depended on how we were raised as children?
I have a friend of my own whom I adore. I met her in college, we had a few classes together, and she shared my same passion for design & magazine reading. But one thing about her blew my mind…her impeccable style. She was one of those big fans of Chanel and the way she dressed definitely showed it. She was often in black & white (…we even did a project together about a whole collection we designed together in nothing but black & white) and always wore big gaudy rings, one placed stylishly on her thumb and index finger, she always wore black nylon tights under either heels or boots that looked like she had them for ages but made them all the more cooler. I mean, no one could mix modern pieces with vintage like she could, and her hairstyle seem to match flawlessly with every outfit (keep in mind she had the same long dark brown hair with a soft fringe for bangs everyday), she was constantly offered jobs at prestigious retail stores because of her hair. It was ridiculous, I mean her! She was ridiculously fabulous! I envied her for her style, her skill in journalism, and of course her language…did I mention she is French? I know right? The more I talked to her, the more I thrived in progressing, her style and consistency to move forward motivated me to make sense of my life and make decisions before the opportunity passed me by. I didn’t feel in anyway that I was copying her by taking a smoke break after every cup of coffee, or my abrupt loyalty to Italian coffee because she convinced me that Lavazza was thee only coffee in the world that could make birds sing, or every time I’m in LA’s Kimski and see a huge ring with a tiny price tag and immediately think “that’s a necessity and a bargain!”, or every time I look in the mirror I think “eh… I could do without ten pounds” or every time I break a baguette and spread butter on it’s toasty insides instead of gorging myself into a calorie-packed bagel, it’s not copying someone I admire, it’s simply becoming a better me. I feel we are all inspired art pieces of one another as we grow older, whose masterpiece are you?
Entry #3: Painful realizations seep into the skin & eventually find their way to the heart
Success has many forms, shapes and sizes; I, especially, know of that now…
I recently sat down with a ‘friend’ (although now I slightly doubt it) and talked out some topics much needed for discussion. Mostly we discussed my current dilemma with my boyfriend who seems to lack any motivation for any possible future endeavors such as going to college, becoming an EMT and finding a job that pays 50k a year (not nearly enough for my tastes). He said what my boyfriend was making right now was fine for a bachelor. But that’s just it, he wasn’t a bachelor, and I am starting to resent the relationship as my ‘friend’ pushed the idea that I took my boyfriend’s bachelorhood away from him or ‘skipped that step’. It hurt, hearing it out loud… I began to feel guilty. As if I’m the bad person for pushing my boyfriend to go to get a job, get a car, go to college and get into a good career. Was I really being a control-freak? I want what’s best for him, for us. So it tinged my heart to hear my ‘friend’ talk about me like my feelings were invalid and eventually he said the one thing you should never tell a ambitious spirit such as I: “just let it go, you can’t change him, there’s no point in stressing or complaining about it, just let things happen as they do and accept them as they are”
Then I began to realize just who I was speaking to: an overweight, strikingly unattractive, even more lazy and un-motivated version of my boyfriend. This ‘friend’ lives with his parents, planning on quitting his job, frequent 4-channer, pot head loser with no intentions of attending school ever since he dropped out of community college and currently the highlight of his life is learning the first 4 seconds of a neutral milk hotel song on guitar. The exact type of guy I try to avoid, well most women in general, try to avoid. And if there is any woman that finds a man like this actually attractive. They are
just plain stupid.
I know I’m sounding mean and self-righteous but I was pained by the idea of getting lectured about entering college and finding a career to support my boyfriend and I from a young virgin that dropped out of community college in search of more pork rinds to side dish his ounce of weed hidden in the dashboard of his parents’ car; someone that wastes away every paycheck of only 3 days of work at a job that really isn’t all that bad and yet every time we meet up he complains about how work is so horrid because none of the women there find him remotely attractive. WELL MAYBE THEY DON’T FIND YOU ATTRACTIVE BECAUSE THEY’RE EITHER MARRIED OR 17 YEARS OLD! Its work buddy! Its not a bar, don’t expect to get laid in the dairy aisle!
Second realization: his idea of success was finding a girl to fuck him.
My boyfriend’s idea of success: becoming idol to those that frequent 4-chan. That includes the pedophiles & otakus (does that even include anyone else?)
My idea of success: finishing off my 2 years at Academy of Art, working for either CDG,
Marni, Marchesa or Peter Som. Living in a fabulous apartment in San Francisco or New York with an amazing view and perfectly decorated atmosphere by Crate & Barrel/
Anthropology; I’ll even settle for some crafty Swedish designer.
I want to be making more than 50k a year, designing garments that walk the runways at Bryant Park.
I know, big leap, but I never aim low, because if I did, I wouldn’t be with my boyfriend… I would be with the guy opposite of me at the café that dimmed any light I had in me that night, telling me to forget all my ambitions and dreams just because he had no desires of growing up and becoming someone with meaning in life. He’s exactly just that- the opposite of me. Success has many faces and all my face can do is cringe. I’m tired of waiting for that moment that changes everything for the better. I want success now. It actually does hurt to cringe; I think I have acute sinusitis. My eyes suck.
