So that was probably the longest absence in the history of absences for me. This last month has been a bit of a whirlwind -- emotionally, geographically and otherwise. For those of you who don't already know, I'm back in New York! The decision to return to the "city of dreams" wasn't an easy one. But it was certainly the best. I could bore you with the qualms of acquiring an international visa to stay in the U.K., but that would require an essay. So I will just say that staying in England was pretty impossible, even if I would've liked to. It all happened very quickly. One day I was biting my nails over my possible deportation [no, it wasn't actually going to happen, but my anxiety told me it would], and the next I was trying to pack the majority of my lifetime possessions into three suitcases [I failed -- and most of my things remain nestled in my bedroom in Hebden Bridge].
That being said, New York has been lovely. I started a full-time position at
Bustle as Associate Fashion & Beauty Editor, and it's been rewarding, to say the least. Patrick came with me, of course, and after a few weeks of the most intense and disheartening apartment hunting EVER, we managed to find a cozy, comfortable, mold-free place in Brooklyn [90 percent of the apartments visited had bad, BAD mold]. I was worried that after 18 months of countryside living, being surrounded by humans would be difficult at best, hideous at worst. But it's been OK. It's been fun, even. Perhaps I've just learned what kind of people are good to be around, though.
One possession I couldn't bear to leave behind was my
Hell Bunny Sarah Jane Coat, a brand I discovered via the mystical and wondrous Georgina of
Cupcake's Clothes. As a child, I had a coat much like this one. Firetruck red with black velvet accents and a hood as the cherry on top. I remember thinking it was my very own invisibility cloak. As long as I was wearing it, no one would see me. I would be safe. It would be magic. As an adult, I have no delusions that I will be invisible in this ensemble. It's big and red and cupcake-shaped. But I'm OK with being seen, now. I'm OK with being myself, and feeling like myself and wearing something loud and "childish" and fun. And in a way, I still feel pretty safe with it on. And when embarking upon a new adventure, in a new [per se, as I've lived here before] city, feeling safe is nothing to belittle.
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