“…we monogram our linen, we carve our names on trees, we scrawl them on washroom walls. it’s all the same impulse. what do we hope from it? applause, envy, respect? or simply attention, of any kind we can get? // m. atwood

if ever there was anything that radiated sophistication to the nth degree to me, it would be three simple letters stitched into fabric. a B, a J, and a G that somehow would, to the outside, encapsulate the very essence of me. but let’s be clear, the gist of me is rather easy to see – big hair, big shoes, head-to-toe black.

the monogram – quieter than pattern sewn into fabric, but obvious in its innate elegance, poise; it’s pronounced refinement – it speaks as loudly as bombs – bombs with ankles crossed, skirt to the knees, pumps tasteful and hair done.

perhaps that’s where i stumble with a monogram – as its not a matter of no and not-ever as opposed to a matter of not-yet? perhaps my three little letters aren’t ready just yet to be toted around town for everyone to see?

sleepyjonesmodaoperandi edieparker smythson clarevivier

➝ source : sleepy jones men’s pajamas exclusive to moda operandi

➝ source : the jean clutch, with my name lit up in lights, via edie parker

➝ source : blah blah notebook via smythson

➝ source : jewelry pouch via clare vivier


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