Don’t write in the back of an Uber
Written live from the Williamsburg Bridge while I powered through motion sickness.
Everyone’s office looks different. Some are beautiful, some are ugly. Some are at home, some are far from home. Since my bedroom is 6x8 feet (wish I was being dramatic), my office takes many forms: A) the actual office that I report to for my job, B) my living room, C) my bed, and D) on-the-go. Today, the Coffee Order office is the back of an Uber, because you cannot decide when inspiration strikes.
I turn 24 in a week, and the search for a birthday outfit was all consuming until I decided to wear something I already own. It was surprising how at peace I was with that decision once it was made—I had been mourning the loss of the perfect Issey Miyake top for the occasion I found on The Real Real. It lived in My Obsessions until it was sold after I had ample time to buy it, but I didn’t realize how perfect it was until it was too late. After weeks of reverse-image searching on Google, hoping that it would pop up somewhere, I decided to just give up. C’est la vie. The top was gone, and I had to take this as a lesson of vintage shopping we’ve all learned. If you see something, act on it, or else someone else will.
I spent lunch breaks thereafter seeing how many pages deep I could get on TRR, SSENSE, even Revolve to find something that would fill the void the Issey Miyake top left. I pounded pavement all over Williamsburg and the Lower East Side, hoping that I would find the top. I tried on enough things to make sales associates hate me for walking out empty handed, but they would understand if they just asked what my mission was. Everyone has wanted to find the perfect birthday top, right?
In reality the top was never a top and was actually a dress I bought a few months ago from Réalisation Par (act surprised when you see me). Réalisation Par dresses are awesome for birthdays. I wore one last year as well. They’re incredibly flattering and worth every pretty penny you put towards investing in one. I’ve reworn my birthday dress from last year on numerous occasions, casually and not casually, during every season with various shoes and layers.
This means I will have more money to spend on the night-of for something like a cake or drinks or Ubers or drunk eats when I get home. I still haven’t decided on a birthday gift from me to me, so if you have any suggestions, please let me know. I’ll be moving in a month, so something for my new apartment would make the most sense, but I’m open to non-sensible options as well.
I’m one of those people who loves their birthday. Like my Cancer Queen before me, Stassi Schroeder, who was born a mere four days (and some years) earlier than I, I’m a firm believer that
And that I should celebrate accordingly. I typically cry each year, but I think that’s fairly normal. Overall, it’s a day I begin planning almost as soon as the last one ends. I go through ten different options of what I want to do, seek the reassurance from my friends that what I’ve decided on would actually be fun for them as well, and then I allow myself to get excited.
I’m not someone who can go by on their birthday without making the day special. I wish I was, but my mom planned too many amazing parties for me when I was little to now stop caring in adulthood. Some of you were lucky enough to attend them, and we still talk about it to this day. I look back on them as the best day of my life during its respective year (because you can have multiple different best days of your life).
I used to not like having a summer birthday because no one made it special during elementary school, but now that I’ve had my fifth grade diploma under my belt for a while now, and real life has begun, I’ve found summer birthdays to be epic. If you care as much about an outfit as I do, the opportunities are endless. Skirt, pants, dress, top, you name it, you can wear it worry-free of weather. The sun is up until later, travel to and from said party is easier, and everyone is tan for pictures. My birthday is also an amazing excuse to live out my dream—getting all of my friends from different sectors of my life together and forcing them to mingle on the account of myself. It’s serendipitous for me to see college friends and home friends and New York City friends unite, even if it’s on one night every year.
Back to the idea of me wearing something I already own for my favorite day of the year. Something I’ve consistently done is hyper-fixated on garments for a fast and furious period of time, only to forget how to style them completely once my infatuation phase is over. Right now, it’s my dinner sweater, my Tabi’s, or a pair of Favorite Daughter jeans that I definitely should get hemmed but don’t want to. I was obsessed with said dress when I bought it, wore it twice out in a short period of time, and then had to remind myself that I was allowed to buy it because I would wear it all summer. My birthday is not a day that’s too good for outfit repeating, because I love to repeat outfits.
I didn’t intend for this to turn into a pre-birthday reflection, but the Uber took me where I needed to go, physically and creatively.
living for the themed birthday party names