Sometime between my reign as Beach Sticker Girl, ruling over the great beachside parking lots of the Town of Eastham and landing my first college internship at a swanky Philadelphia ad agency, where I flawlessly executed…coffee runs for too-cool-for-school modern day Don Draper’s and Peggy Olson’s, my mom and I took a trip to Nordstorm at the West Farms Mall. There we purchased, despite my incessant protest, a blazer.
As you might know, I have an unwavering aversion to traditional office attire. You will never catch me in a pantsuit, a pair of ‘slacks’, or a pencil skirt. The closest my closet has ever come to claiming the dreaded ‘Business Attire’ classification is this blazer. And this isn’t just any blazer. It’s a tan blazer. The most boring kind. I will admit, it does boast some feminine detail in the sleeves and does not have shoulder pads or anything like that, so it’s not terrible, if you’re into that kind of thing, which again, I am not.
Nonetheless, mom insisted, because no matter what job I landed post graduation, she was sure and I knew she was right, that it would without doubt require proper footwear and call for exactly 0 “staff” t shirts. This blazer would become a staple in my working girl wardrobe. Surely, I would wear it often. Whatever you say, mom.
I remember it was expensive, or at least not $19.99 from Forever 21, but it was mom’s treat. Where was this generous spirit when I
wanted needed those Victoria’s Secret PINK sweat pants in middle school??? (You’re learning a lot about my personal style in this post and you’re probably gathering that there’s not much to it…).
So anyway, I have this blazer and I wear it exactly one time from the time of purchase until now, roughly seven years later. And I wouldn’t even say I wore it that one time, more like rolled it into my Longchamp, toted it across campus and reluctantly slipped it on 13 minutes before some group presentation, probably in accounting or something drab like that.
This tan blazer with the feminine details in the sleeves has traveled to Philly, to dorm rooms and apartments in Moore Hall and Mannayunk, to Connecticut for a short time and finally to Newton, Brookline and Boston, demanding prime closet real estate in the 20-something wardrobe market. Always there if I needed it, patiently waiting for whenever I decided to want it.
Enter: new job. Approaching three years out of college, my second real job out there in the real world (how did I get old enough for that to be a thing? Oh the perils of 24…).
Oh and hey, perhaps this is a good time to tell you that The Street and I broke up. We just didn’t click anymore, no flame in the fire. I was hungry for change and somehow someway landed at Boston magazine, where blazers are like pretty appropriate, I would think.
Today, exactly seven days after the first day of my second job after college, it hit me. I’m working for a magazine, the only dream I’ve ever really had (that is, to be Andi Anderson of How to Lose a Guy in Ten Days, which by default requires working for Composure magazine…Boston mag will have to do). A MAGAZINE!!!! I’m going to be surrounded by creative minds every day, who dream up all kinds of media for the good people of Boston to consume. Young people! People who frequent ramen joints and trendy fitness studios! People who write! Good people. I’m going to be working for a magazine focused entirely on the very city I have come to know and love and call my home.
So anyway, here I am, at my new desk, in my new office, surrounded by new people, wearing my old blazer, the same one that’s been hanging in my closet for years, when it all hits me; this change is massive, the opportunity is so great. I wanted something different and I made it happen. Some of it was scary and some of it was sad and I know it’s only just beginning.
None of this has anything to do with a blazer, but I thought about that day at Nordstrom this afternoon and the next thing I knew, somewhere between Hynes and Washington Square I had scribbled a full page of ramblings about a blazer, just begging to be published.