I spent most of the last year overseas travelling and working in fashion. When I returned to Australia, I moved to Melbourne with a thirst for something more in the fashion world.
I moved two states away from my entire family and all of my friends, in pursuit of a career. Working my butt off for something I believe in has always been a part of my anatomy, but now more so than ever, so far away, I had begun to feel the sentimental grips of my decision. I’d given up regular visits to my mother’s house to sit at her kitchen bench, lull around in her lolly jar and talk about life while I watched her cook my favourite meals. I’d given up weekend trips to my father’s house to play around in the back yard with my sisters, getting dirty building something out of wood scraps and odd bits of yard junk. I’d given up weekends with my friends, nights out with my big brother and familiar places I’d go for comforting coffees. I’d given up lots of things in an attempt to make my own dreams and goals eventuate in Melbourne, and I found myself feeling a little lonely and bewildered by it all.
My February issue of Vogue arrived in the mail at a serendipitous time, and it was almost like opening a hidden message from the universe to sit tight, stay strong and keep following my passion.
On the front cover, I saw Kim Kardashian West: empowered, striking, and omnipotent in head-to-toe white, and she was staring at me with a reminder to appreciate everything that is feminine and real about my body. On the inside, I felt as though every story was in some way or another delivering a message of strength: the ladder-climbing fashion icons that have conquered a once-male driven industry in Women on top; Reese Witherspoon’s honest reveal, “I don’t care what other people think, I’m going to follow my passion”, in Into the wild; Deborra-lee Furness and her emotional fight for change in Action Hero; the tales of Carmen Tal and her blood, sweat and tear-filled journey from scratch to squillions in The good oil; and Angelina Jolie, the world’s most known angel on earth, in The crusader.
As I sat back and read my Vogue February Femme Force issue, I couldn’t help but feel an overwhelming sense of encouragement and reassurance, that I was exactly where I was meant to be at exactly the right time, just as all of these women were. I read it from front to back and when I put it down, I felt as though a weight of insecurities had been lifted off my shoulders and I was myself again.
Vogue isn’t just a fashion magazine, it’s a bible for the modern day woman, and it’s been a saviour for me many times throughout my life – not just in keeping up with trends. I never question myself when I buy Vogue, or question if I need this month’s content or not because I know that by the time I put it down each month, I’m a refreshed woman, inside and out.
The Fashion Advocate x
