Today your favorite Creamstress celebrates another twerk around the sun.
And in honor of my favorite day of the year, I wrote myself this letter that I’m about to share with y’all,
Because why the fuck not?!
Remember exactly 10 years ago, strutting into the Burberry flagship on Spring Street in SOHO (NYC) and paying two month’s rent for a classic black trench?
That took you an obscenely long time at an obscenely high interest rate to pay off.
…Then having to live off of cans of tuna & ramen and/or what you could eat for free at the restaurant you were managing, for a good minute, because #FakeItTIllYouMakeIt
But who am I to judge?!
Cuz after hustling your way from coat-check girl to restaurant manager at that bougie Wall Street Steakhouse in just 3 years
(flips hair, snaps fingers)
You were beginning to learn the power a solid hand shake, slutty smile and some good ol fashioned class drag could have on one’s life.
And what else was a Jersey girl to do, when she had an economic class to appropriate yet was getting paid 15-20K less a year then the men at her job doing the same exact thing?!
Oooooh the good ol days…
Ha. Ha. Ha. 🙄
Remember afterwards standing on the corner of Spring and Greene feeling so damn expensive and accomplished for having made your first “big girl” purchase?
Then immediately to calm the sense of buyers remorse that was beginning to outshine the adrenaline rush of spending money you did’t have,
You reiterated aloud the same cavalierstatement the salesman gave you on how this was an “investment piece” that would easily last you ten years.
This, combined with an excited thought of what you and your life could possibly look like at thirty four (?!!) was all it took to keep you from returning the damn thing.
That and lets be real, it looked pretty fucking good on you.
Fast forward 10 years to you living the flashiest trashiest life that you could have never imagined.
Yes, you are still a sucker for fancy shit (which I’m not mad at) AND yes you are still sporting that Burberry Trench.
Only now it’s typically paired with something hot pink and/or lycra versus the retro pencil skirts & blouses you used to rock. #GlowUp
Cheers to you, you magnificent Queen and to all you’ve accomplished since that freezing cold day in SOHO.
You went from faking it TO making it, learning along the way that:
1. Said cliche had way more to do with developing your integrity, compassion and resilience then it ever had to do with fashion.
2. The art of class drag coupled with a solid sales pitch and a cavalier attitude could sell the most stupidly expensive shit and in turn allow you to utilize capitalism in fucking the patriarchy that exploited you more before Sex Work.
3. Actual investments have profitable returns.