Who should be allowed to judge fashion? I can’t answer that, but I can tell you who should not legally be allowed to give their input EVER. Anyone who drives a teal/rust colored Geo Metro circa 1996*, that’s who.
Let me explain.
Recently a new friend and I were talking about our shared love of the writings of Henri Nouwen. He wrote about things of the heart and of knowing who you really are from an incredibly humble perspective. I’ll never forget when my bestie gave me the best literary gift ever, a copy of “The Inner Voice Of Love: A Journey Through Anguish To Freedom.”
Every year my little sister and I try to meet up in between our birthdays (hers is August 10, mine August 20). We’ve done this for the past three years and it’s a tradition I hope we never forsake. Three years ago, I visited Jennie while she was interning in New York. It was my first time in the city and she was already over it so we tried to avoid cliche toursity places (this was before we embraced our toursity ways and learned to proudly wear our cameras around our neck and don our fanny packs. HOT.) 