People ask me what I do now, and earlier my response would’ve confidently been, “Oh I’m an entrepreneur…I launched a fashion e-commerce company.” 6 months later, as I’ve evolved and interacted with people in the industry, both adorned and produced intricate designs, I am a lot closer to identity crisis than I ever have been. Don’t get me wrong, I love what I do, I love how fashion is the ultimate amalgamation of beauty and art. I love the feeling where my eyes feel feasted and life seems like a never-ending couture celebration. Pause, though.
Now, here is where relativity comes into play. In this glamorous world, people love looking better than the other. It makes them happier to see that a certain somebody, who they might not even know personally, is feeling inferior to them. Ah damn, I have more Chanel on me than she’ll ever dream of.
As much as I love being in that vibe where everybody just transcends into assuming the roles of Gods and Goddesses, where dresses are majestic, looks are divine and paparazzi blinding, I now, already, find it exhausting and repetitive.
I can no longer avoid the eyes of the two hungry kids who came knocking on my car window asking for change, or for that matter, the number of homeless people I saw sleeping on the road. I was returning from and going to these masquerades where people just don’t discuss the helplessness or evil in the society, but I couldn’t stop those images flashing in my head as I sipped oh-that-fancy-wine-from-the-time-when-I-wasn’t-even-born. Sure it tasted good, but as I mingled and greeted people around me, I couldn’t help but feel the lack of something in my life. What good did all this account for if I couldn’t sponsor that child’s education or meals? For all I know, they were sleeping somewhere, probably happier than most people at the event, knowing exactly how to survive on nothing but hope of a better future. How I wished for someone to come, slap me out of my drunkenness, and talk to me about being socially conscious or elevating standards of living of the poor in my country. Now, that’s the type of conversations that stimulate me, the kinds where you talk about ideas, revolutions, making a difference, being truly centered and giving. Sure I can drop witty comments, be that crazy, fun, party girl but what I really hope for is meeting people that are unconditionally immersed in the beauty of life. My idea of sexy is someone who is soulful, loves whatever it is that they do, strive to become exceptionally good at it, and are willing to surrender themselves to a cause, idea, or purpose unconditionally. It is so hard to have meaningful conversations these days, because people talk about their routines, jobs and everydays, forgetting that there’s a bigger being they’re a part of. Everybody is trying to fixate themselves into that small idea of molding perfect lives, blindsiding their own individuality. My focus now is to be socially conscious, to be kind, to respect this gift of life that we’re blessed with. I want to put life into all the conversations and interactions of mine and talk about ideas, purpose, spirituality, giving, pursuing excellence and witnessing as much life as we can, as fast as possible. You might not be here tomorrow you know- so if there’s anything I can ask of anyone reading this- go out there and try to make one life better, that’s all. Make someone smile a little wider, laugh a little harder, worry a little lesser, more secure and less alone..start with just one person, just one act, even if it’s yourself at this point. Make one less of all the negatively affected people. Less show, more soul.

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