How NYC changed me.

Damn you Marie Kondo for making me take 5 hours folding my clothing in this super cool way.  Eye roll emoji’s flashed through my head like an eternal text message of both happiness and regret.  I stared at the many trash bags full of clothing and boxes of shoes that I was removing from my equation. 

When I first moved to NYC on the record cold day of the year I was oddly prepared as I had purchased snow boots, a down coat and a leather jacket even before any jobs offers came because something in my gut told me I’d be moving there. That’s usually how I live my life, I get feelings that things are going to happen and they always do, makes it easier to prepare. The day I moved out of my sublease into my real apartment and the contents of my storage pod was unleashed into my giant single room loft I felt overwhelmed as boxes and boxes of clothing and shoes laid abandoned in the corner that would adorn my new mattress once it was delivered.  I stood there and stared at all of my shit wondering how one human accumulated so much stuff, and this was after I got rid of 1/2 of my stuff in CA already. Yes after over a decade in fashion I had accumulated more than the average gal, a ball gown or 2, lots of active wear and denim I had launched, stuff that friends had given me from company’s they worked for etc etc. But thinking back a lot of my girlfriends, guy friends and boyfriends pretty much collected shit. Did the variance in high heels make me feel free? Did the selection of dresses and under garments make me feel powerful? Who the fuck knows, what I do know is that this was the norm in Los Angeles. City of angels, city of things, city of items and who can accumulate the most. Who can drive the fanciest BMW with red interior, who can be seen, and who can wear what, who, why.

Who gives a shit really?

After a few months in NYC I called my best friend of 15 years and cried into the phone.

“What’s wrong babe?” He said.

“I’m changing so much, it’s so weird.” I sobbed.

“Is this good change or bad change?”

“Good.”

“Ok, well that’s not sad then you’re just growing like you always do. Like you should. Don’t be sad.”

“I know but I feel like I’m losing the woman I was in LA and I think that’s a good thing and that’s sad.” I whaled.

We both paused and then started laughing.

I wasn’t just changing my perspective on things that were superficially important to me but I was changing my perspective on the things I considered to be success and what really mattered. I changed my view of what I needed in terms of relationships as well, yes I still wanted someone driven, “successful” and smart, someone who would challenge the shit out of me, but no longer cared about some of the things I cared about in LA because of the successful people I was matching myself with.

Life became about necessity, I need those shoes to walk in the snow, I need this train pass, I need to see this art exhibit. Decluttering and giving away piles and piles and designer items was part of me freeing that woman.

In many ways I feel like I was meant to live in NYC (she types, currently in LA). I won’t be there forever but am grateful for every moment I have in life that allows me to shed skin, grow, mature. It’s funny now, when I come back to Los Angeles to visit I feel like a visitor, because I’ve lived it already, I get it and respect it but no longer need it. And that feels nice.

Writing to you from under a palm tree. xx Oni*

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